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ANALYTIC

PSYCHOLOGY

\j.

G. F. STOUT, LL.D., F.B.A.

FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

PROFESSOR OF LOGIC AND METAPHYSICS IN

THE UNIVERSITY OF ST. ANDREWS

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. IL

LONDON : GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD.
RUSKIN HOUSE, MUSEUM STREET, W.C. i
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

I So

Vr2L

First Edition, April, 1896
Second Edition, Sepf., 1902
Third Edition, Fed., 1909
Fourth Edition, Jan., 1918

CONTENTS.

BOOK II.
MENTAL PROCESSES.

CHAPTER V.
_^ Noetic Synthesis.

Aj SECTlOn PAOB

•/J I. Noetic Synthesis as distinguished from Association, - . . . i

- — "~~ 2. Simple Perception, ^

fj 3. Possibility of Impressional Revival and Association, - - - - 11

— - — 4. Grades of Simple Perception, 16

^ 5. Complex Perception, 18

6. Grades of Perceptual Complexity, - - 29

7. How does a Sense-Impression suggest a Percept ? . - . - 30
-■''"^ 8. Noetic Synthesis and the Train of Ideas, ...... 31

Vj. 9. Mutual Implication of Synthesis and Analysis, - - - . - 39

^ 10. Noetic Synthesis and Apperception, 40

y* II. Final Remarks, 41

CHAPTER VI.
* Relative Suggestion.

I. Unconscious Inference, 43

3 2. Mental Productiveness in General (i), 45

, -^ 3. Mental Productiveness in General (2), 49

^\{ 4, Types and Examples of Relative Suggestion, 52

"^"n- 5. Relative Suggestion in Perceptual Process, 65

'^ 6. Relative Suggestion in Automatic Movement, 72

"'t 7. Informal Inference, 73

8. The Play of Imagination, 76

g. Relative Suggestion as related to Suggestion by Formal Similarity, • 78

10. Formal Inference, 81

CHAPTER VII.

.0*** Conation and Cognitive Synthesis.

J I. Conation and Cognition developed coincidently, 82

fH 2. Practical and Theoretical Conation, 93

/\ 3. Miscellaneous Illustrations, 103

>

iv Contents.

CHAPTER VIII.
Apperception.

SECTION PAGB

1. Explanation of the Term, » • -no

2. Mental Systems, 114

3. Apperception and Assimilation, - - - - - - • -118

4. Connective Arrangements, 121

5. Serial Evolution of Apperceptive Systems, 124

6. Apperception and Fixation, 127

7. Co-operation and Competition of Apperceptive Systems, ... 128

8. Conditions determining the Strength of Apperceptive Systems, - - 132
g. Negative Apperception, 140

10. Destructive Apperception, 144

11. Conflict of Systems, 145

12. Suggestibility, 154

13. Issue of Conflict, 156

14. Conditions determining the Train of Ideas, ---.-- 163

15. Thought and Association, 164

CHAPTER IX.
Comparison and Conception.

I Analysis of Comparison, - -■ . . . - . . . 168

2. Comparison a Process Distinctive of the Human Mind, - • - 171

3. Comparison as Rudimentary Conception, 173

4. Comparison as Quantitative, 175

5. Conception by means of Representative Examples, .... 176

6. Generic Images not Identical with Rudimentary Concepts, - - - 179

7. Functions of Generic Images, 183

8. Intuitional Thinking, 186

g. In what sense Intuitional Thinking involves Generalisation, - • 187

CHAPTER X.

Thought and Language.

1. The Essential Functions of Language, ...... igo

2. Language and the Train of Ideas, ig4

3. Combination of Words, ig7

4. The Social Factor, 202

5. Comparison as conditioned by Conceptual Analysis and Synthesis, - 205

6. The Explication of Concepts, 206

7. Universe of Discourse, 211

8. The Subject-Predicate Relation, 212

9. Interconnection of Sentences, 214

10. Occasional Meaning of Expressive Signs, 215

Contents. v

SECTION PAGE

11. Modification of Meaning by Analogy, 218

12. The Objective Categories of Grammar, ...... 219

13. Gesture-Language, 221

14. Gesture-Language tends to become Conventional, . - . . 224

15. Limitations of Gesture-Language, 225

16. Formlessness of Gesture-Language, 227

17. The Varieties of Conventional Language, -.-.-. 228

CHAPTER XL
Belief and Imagination.

1. Introductory, 234

2. Belief as a Condition of Activity, 234

3. Belief as Limitation of Activity, 239

4. Belief and Impressional Experience, ....... 244

5. The Real as Physical Resistance, --..... 245

6. Belief and Association, 248

7. Apperception and Belief, -- 252

8. Desire as a Cause of Belief, 254

g. Primitive Credulity, 258

10. The Conditions of Imagination, 260

11. Imagination as Play, 262

12. Influence of Imagination on Conduct, --..-.. 265

CHAPTER XII.
Pleasure and Pain.

1. Statement of Problem, 268

2. General View, 269

3. Psychological Application, - . . 271

4. Physiological Application, 2S7

5. Muscular Action, 290

6. Organic Cravings, 299

7. Pain-Sensations, - . . . 300

8. Sensations of the Special Senses, - ....... ^oi

g. The Psychological Theory of Sense-Pleasure and Pain, - - - 303

AN/VLYTIC PSYCHOLOGY.

CHAPTER V.
NOETIC SYNTHESIS.

§ I. Noetic Synthesis as Distinguished from
Association.

By noetic synthesis I mean that union of presentational
elements which is involved in their reference to a single
object ; or, in other words, in their combination as specifying
constituents of the same thought. It is by noetic synthesis
that those complex psychical units come into being which we
call percepts, ideas, and concepts. All these words imply
something which is perceived or conceived, or of which we
have an idea ; and it is this objective reference which con-
stitutes each of them a unit in mental process. This kind of
synthesis has a twofold application, according as the elements
unified are themselves anoetic or noetic. As an example of
the first case, we may take our recognition of persons by
means of peculiarities in their appearance which we are unable
to analyse, so that, if any alteration took place, although we
should notice the difference, we should not be able to detect
wherein it consisted. Similarly, we may be able to identify a
musical note as having a certain timbre, without being able to
distinguish the overtones which give it its peculiar quality.
But the second application of noetic synthesis is most import-
ant for the detailed explanation of mental process. It is to be
VOL. II. I

2 Analytic Psychology.

found wherever the objective reference is to a whole consisting
of parts each of which may constitute a distinct object. In
the developed consciousness the whole mind is more or less
perfectly organised into a system of noetic units, in which
partial apprehensions are subordinated to more comprehensive
apprehensions, and these in their turn to others still more
comprehensive. The percept of a particular thing in space
has subordinated to it the percepts or ideas of the constituent
parts of the thing and of its various sensible qualities. So the
idea of the thing as it occurs in a train of thought embraces
under it not merely the ideas answering to the subordinate
percepts, but also the ideas of the special relations which give
it its interest and significance as part of the train. This
mental organisation may be compared to that of a complex
society, such as an army ; the part played by the apprehen-
sion of the whole in connecting the apprehensions of the parts
is comparable to the function of the officer who gives unity
and combined action to the group placed under his control.
The unity of the army depends on the commander-in-chief;
the unity of the various divisions depends on the generals of
division ; the unity of the regiment depends on the colonel ;
that of the company on the captain. It would obviously be an
absurdity to attempt to account for the organisation of an
army merely by the contiguous adhesion of the soldiers inter
se, apart from the descending scale of subordination to officers.
But it is an absurdity of an exactly analogous nature, though
much greater in degree, to attempt to account for the
systematic unity of the human mind by mere association. We
have already paved the way for the application of this analogy,
and for the exposition of noetic synthesis in general. In
chapter iii. of book i. we discussed the connection between
our cognisance of form of combination and our cognisance of
the parts combined. We there showed that our cognisance of
the form of combination characteristic of a whole is a mode of

Noetic Synthesis. 3

consciousness distinct from our cognisance of its constituents.
In chapter iv. we showed that the apprehension of a whole
could take place independently of the apprehension of its
component details. This we called implicit apprehension. We
also pointed out that the implicit apprehension of a whole
might be combined with the successive apprehension of each
of its components, so as to control the order of their emer-
gence, and to exclude the intrusion of irrelevant objects. This
we called schematic apprehension, and we found that it con-
stitutes the essence of whatever can be properly termed a
train of thought. If the reader carefully attends to these dis-
tinctions he will have no difficulty in clearly separating the
conception of noetic synthesis from that of association. Asso-
ciation comes into play only in so far as co-ordinate elements
tend to suggest each other, because they have been previously
combined in a certain order. In any given stage of a train of
thought the next step is partly determined by the controlling
influence of the central idea of the topic with which the whole
series is concerned, and partly by the special idea which has
last emerged. In so far as it is determined by the special
idea which has last emerged, the principle of association is
operative ; in so far as it is determined by the central idea of
the whole topic, noetic synthesis is operative. Association also
manifests itself in the casual accompaniments of irrelevant
imagery which appear in the course of the process, and in the
casual suggestions which give rise to sudden transitions to
other topics which may be wholly disconnected with the pre-
existing train. It is mere association, for instance, which
would lead a man in a conversation about peace and war to
begin to talk about Peace the murderer. But the antithesis
between noetic synthesis and contiguous adhesion is brought
out in the clearest light by the passage of attentive into auto-
matic process. In proportion as automatism supervenes
association becomes substituted for thought-control, and in the

4 Analytic Psychology.

final stage completely supplants it. Thus, when we are
walking without attending to our movements, our progress is
wholly determined by the association between a certain group
of sensations experienced at a given moment and a corre-
sponding motor impulse. In learning to read, a child has at
the outset to attend carefully to the connection between
written characters and the sounds for which they stand. The
idea of this connection dominates the whole process of
learning. But the educated adult finds that the sight of the
characters immediately suggests the sound as if it were part
and parcel of the visual impression, so that he can give his
whole attention to the subject-matter of a book or letter with-
out in the least considering the connection between visual and
auditory signs. Association has been so strengthened by
repetition that it has become capable of fulfilling by itself the
function of attention.

We shall now proceed to a systematic examination of noetic
synthesis as it appears at different levels of mental life, in
simple perception, complex perception, image or idea, and
conception. At the same time we shall consider carefully its
connection with associative process.

§ 2. Simple Perception.

By simple perception is meant the immediate identification
and distinction of an object presented to the senses, whether
this be a simple sensible quality, like red or blue, or a com-
plex thing, having a multiplicity of parts and of sensible
qualities, each of which is capable of being separately identi-
fied. The nature of simple perception as thus defined has
already been touched upon in discussing so-called association
by similarity. We then pointed out that to perceive a thing
at all implies our perceiving it as such or such, — in the words
of Spencer, " we identify it as a particular thing or range it

Noetic Synthesis, 5

with certain kindred things ". We also pointed out that this
does not commonly involve the ideal recall, either of other ap-
pearances of the same thing, or of other appearances of like
things. If I look at a horse I immediately know it for a
horse, without summoning up mental images of other horses.
Ordinary introspection is quite sufficient to bear out this state-
ment. But if it needed further corroboration, this would be
supplied by the existence of simple perception where the power
of ideal recall is absent. On meeting a man, I may feel con-
vinced that I have met him before, without being able to re-
call when or where. In certain cases of aphasia the power ot
remembering words is wanting, though the words may be dis-
tinguished and identified when they are heard, so that the
patient can write from dictation and understand what is said
to him. To take an instance at random a man who has lost
memory of substantives, "on being shown a tumbler glass
shakes his head and says it is for beer but cannot remember
its name ; he knows it is not called a basin, a mug, or a jug,
and recognises the word ' glass ' directly it is named ; but
the next minute he has forgotten it, and cannot repeat it".^
Charcot reports a case in which the power of recalling visual
imagery was almost entirely lost, though visual perception was
by no means proportionately affected. As Dr. Ward points
out, the patient could sort wools, although he could not mentally
image colours. To this pathological evidence we may add the
appearance of simple perception in stages of psychical life in
which mental images cannot be supposed to exist. The lower
animals, such as fishes, can identify their prey or their mate ;
there is no evidence to show that they can think about these
objects when they are not sensibly present. Indeed, it has
been supposed that percepts may be innate. Such instances
as that of the chicken picking up grains on its emerging from

F. Bateman, M.D., on Aphasia, p. 103.

6 Analytic Psychology.

the shell are apt to suggest this view. But both the facts and
the inference are doubtful.

What is the precise character of this peculiar mode of con-
sciousness which we call simple perception ? It might be
supposed that it consists merely in the bare reference of a
specific experience to a specific object, and that it does not
involve the relation of the apprehension of a whole to the
apprehension of its parts. Closer consideration will, how-
ever, lead us to take a different view. Whatever is perceived
is recognised as such or such ; and however vague and rudi-
mentary the recognition may be, it implies a reference to
something beyond the given object. The object comes before
consciousness as an instance, or example, or particular ap-
pearance of something which may have other instances, or
examples, or particular appearances. The precise mode of
consciousness involved is perhaps best indicated by reference
to a special phase of it in which its nature is manifest with
peculiar clearness. After having noted a succession of similar
objects, such as sheep passing through a gap in a hedge, I ex-
claim : " There's another ! " or simply, " Another one ! " Now,
the only perceptual or ideal image which exists in my con-
sciousness at the time will in all probability be that of the
object which provokes my exclamation. But the word
" other " implies a reference beyond this particular object ;
a reference to what, for psychological purposes, we may re-
gard as a whole, of which the presented particular is a constitu-
ent part. This whole is an object of implicit apprehension,
and in all human perception, at least, some such implicit
apprehension appears to be involved. All identification im-
plies distinction, and in simple perception the distinction can
only exist in this form.

How is simple perception connected with association ?
Association of ideas cannot be regarded as among its pre-
conditions, for ideas do not precede but follow perception, and

Noetic Synthesis. 7

even presuppose a considerable measure of perceptual com-
plexity. Percepts, as we have seen, may exist without the
corresponding ideas ; and it is equally true that ideas may
exist without the corresponding percepts. The spontaneous
remembrance of spoken or written words may be conjoined
with word- blindness and word-deafness. The patient for
whom spoken language is merely a confused murmur, may
none the less be able to express his thoughts with considerable
freedom. Similarly, in a remarkable case of psychical blind-
ness, reported by Wilbrand, a lady who could perfectly well
with closed eyes summon up before her mental view the
images of objects and of their relative position, was thoroughly
confused and bewildered by her inability to identify the same
objects when actually present, so that she could not find her
way without a guide. If, then, association plays any part in
simple perception, it must be association between the residua
of impressions, as distinguished from percepts. But here the
grand difficulty emerges, that impressions as such do not
appear to be revived at all, except in certain rare and curious
cases. The most obvious way of parrying this objection is to
put forward a theory such as that of Bain, according to which
the residua of previous like impressions immediately blend
with the new one and are merged in it. We may even dis-
miss the supposed plurality of numerically distinct residua,
and simply refer identification to the re-excitement of a pre-
vious disposition. On this last view, of course there will be no
room for association or reproduction, but we may consider it
along with the theory based on the attraction of similars,
because the same criticism applies to both. The main point
of this criticism has already been indicated (pp. 279-281). It
is that frequent repetition of like impressions fails to lead to
identification. We here add two further examples in order to
clinch our case. The first I quote from Mr. Edridge-Green.
" The plane-tree is one of the commonest trees in London ;

8 Analytic Psychology.

most of the avenues contain large numbers of them, and nearly
all the trees in the quadrangle of St. Bartholomew's Hospital
are plane-trees ; and yet I have taken a leaf and shown it to
numbers of students and other persons, and asked them if they
knew what it was. They have all said, * No ; I have never
seen anything like it before'. And one, who prided himself
on his botanical knowledge, even went so far as to say,
' I am positive I have not, because I always notice everything,
and should certainly have remembered if I had '. Next day
he remarked to me, * It's very strange my not having noticed it
before ; but I saw numbers of trees with leaves like the one you
showed me yesterday on my way home '. . . . I was taking a
walk with a relation who was very much interested in super-
ficial botany, and anxious to know the names of the different
trees and plants. So I went up an avenue (where nearly
every second tree is a plane-tree), and pointed out the various
trees and shrubs, mentioning their names, of course taking
no notice of the plane-trees. I then turned into a side-avenue
of a similar character, and, having reached the centre of it,
stopped in front of a plane-tree, and asked, ' Have you ever
seen a similar tree to that before?' and received the answer
I expected. 'No; I think that must be a very rare tree. I
don't remember ever having seen one like it before.' We were
in sight of two or three dozen at the time, and the great sur-
prise expressed at finding every other tree a plane was
amusing." ^

The following is an instance from my own experience.
I was about to try a series of experiments with the view of
ascertaining how far and under what conditions it is pos-
sible to discriminate the components of a compound smell
or taste. For this purpose a number of spices, such as
cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, etc.. were used. By way of

*Edr)dge-Green on Memory, pp. iig, 120, 121.

I

Noetic Synthesis. g

preliminary I tested my power to identify the several smells
separately, rather as a matter of form than from any doubt of
my ability to do so. To my amazement I found that in a
large proportion of cases I utterly failed to recognise quite
familiar odours. Nor was the failure due to inability to recall
names. In point of fact, I knew beforehand the names of the
spices which were to be used ; but when the right name oc-
curred to me, I did not know it was the right name. My
helpless bewilderment pointed distinctly to a deficiency in
perceptual discernment. To realise the importance of such
facts as these, we must note that the repetition of impres-
sions is not merely of itself insufficient to give rise to iden-
tification, but that it fails to do so even when interest is
aroused. I could not identify the smell of a familiar spice,
even though I had an intense desire to do so. This shows not
only that the preacquired disposition need not in point of fact
generate perceptual consciousness, but that it is incapable of
doing so. It is not enough that the residua of previous im-
pressions should be re-excited. Their re-excitement must
bring with it a peculiar modification resulting in a new growth,
both mental and physiological. On the physiological side we
may take this to imply the establishment of a connection be-
tween " lower level " impressional nervous arrangements, and
"higher level" perceptual nervous arrangements. However
this may be, it is clear that the acquirement of a new kind
of percept presupposes more than the repetition of impres-
sion. It presupposes interest ; it arises only when psychical
activity is set in a certain direction. Of course it is a
varepov irporepov to say that we feel interest in an object
before it is perceived. What is meant is, that we feel an
interest in some kind of whole, of which the object forms
part, and that the interest requires for its fuller gratification
further distinction and analysis.

If this account of the matter be correct, it does not neces-

lO Analytic Psychology.

sarily follow that association plays no part in the development
of simple perception. It may enter into the gradual process
of differentiation of a preformed disposition, which ultimately
issues in perceptual consciousness. A possible mode in which
this may take place is indicated by a general condition of
distinction and identification, first formulated, I believe, by
Lotze, and since very clearly expounded by Stumpf and
James. This condition, as stated by James, is that " any total
impression made on the mind must be unanalysable whose
elements are never experienced apart "?■ . . . "If all cold
things were wet and all wet things cold, if all hard things
pricked our skin and no other things did so; is it likely that we
should discriminate between coldness and wetness, and hard-
ness and pungency respectively ? " ^ " The converging of the
eyeballs and the accommodation for near objects are, for each
distance of the object (in the common use of the eyes),
inseparably linked, and neither can (without a sort of
artificial training . . . ) be felt by itself" ^ " The contraction
of the diaphragm and the expansion of the lungs, the
shortening of certain muscles and the rotation of certain
joints, are examples " * of an analogous kind. " The as-
safoetida in * Worcestershire sauce ' is not obvious to any one
who has not tasted assafoetida per se. In a ' cold ' colour
an artist would never be able to analyse out the pervasive
presence of blue, unless he had previously made acquaintance
with the colour blue by itself." ^ Let us now consider the mode
in which this principle may be supposed to operate. How is
it that the recurrence of the like impression in dissimilar con-
texts leads to identification ? Obviously, the presented
content and its corresponding disposition must in some way
undergo a modification which is one of the conditions of the
genesis of the percept. How does this modification take

1 Psychology, vol. i., p. 502. ^Ibid. ^ Ibid.

* Ibid. ^ Ibid., p. 504.

Noetic Synthesis. ii

place ? It is conceivable that the differentiation arises merely
from the excitement of the same disposition,/?, in conjunction
with varying psychical concomitants. But it seems probable
that besides this the associative principle also comes into play.
D becomes associated with different, and usually conflicting
dispositions X, Y, Z, so that whenever the corresponding
impression arises in consciousness its nature is modified by
preacquired reproductive tendencies. We need not suppose
that these tendencies actually take effect in the distinct revival
of previously experienced impressions. It is enough to assume
that they give rise to increased complexity in the disposition
D, and in the answering sensations. We shall adduce a little
later on examples of this effect of association. In so far as
the variable associations acquired by D are mutually conflict-
ing, they will tend more or less to counteract each other, so
that the central process immediately connected with D will
suffer a kind of mechanical detachment from its impressional
setting, and acquire a certain salience in consciousness. In
some such way we may suppose association, even at the level
of purely sentient process, to play a part in the transition from
anoetic to noetic consciousness.

§ 3. Possibility of Impressional Revival and
Association.

It must be admitted that this suggestion is somewhat specu-
lative and precarious, but there is, I think, a presumption in
its favour. It does not presuppose the existence of ideas, and
it does not regard ideas as " traces, copies, or residues of
sensations "} What it does assume is the possibility of
impressional revival and association. To judge from Dr.
Ward's article in Mind, above referred to, he would entirely
deny this possibilit}'. But it is clear that in so doing he would

* Dr. Ward in Mind, N.S., No. 12, p. 531.

12 Analytic Psychology.

overstate his case. There are not wanting instances which
are hard to interpret without assuming impressional revival.
Instances of purely impressional association are rarer and
more doubtful. I would call association purely impressional
when one impression reinstates another without the interven-
tion of ideas. But cases are not very rare in which an idea
reinstates an impression, or in which a percept reinstates
another percept.

Some persons can summon up mentally so vivid a
presentment of colour that the negative image follows, as
if the colour had actually been before their eyes. J. Miiller
vouches for this fact, and A. Binet, in his Psychologic du
Raisonnejiioit, reports a number of cases. It is difficult to
suppose that such after-images can arise otherwise than
through a previous excitement of impressional centres. In
dreams we have a sequence not merely of ideas, but also of
percepts more or less connected in the way of association.
Similarly, in the hypnotic state, it is possible to suggest hallu-
cinations and to determine the mode and time of their
occurrence by preformed association. Purely impressional
association is probably involved in certain curious instances of
h}'permnesia, in which delirium or the use of drugs seems to re-
vive the residua of a series of experiences which could never have
been recalled under normal conditions. The well-known case
recorded by Coleridge is perhaps the most remarkable, though
it is by no means isolated. " In a Roman Catholic town in
Germany a young woman who could neither read nor write
was seized with a fever, and . . . was heard talking Latin,
Greek and Hebrew. Whole sheets of her ravings were written
out, and found to consist of sentences intelligible in them-
selves, but having slight connection with each other. ... At
last the mystery was unveiled by a physician, who . . . dis-
covered that at the age of nine she had been charitably taken
by an old Protestant pastor, a great Hebrew scholar, in whose

Noetic Synthesis. 13

house she lived till his death. On further inquiry, it appeared
to have been the old man's custom for years ... to read to
himself with a loud voice out of his books. The books were
ransacked, and . . . many of the passages taken down at the
young woman's bedside were identified." ^ What is especially
deserving of notice in this case is the extreme difficulty of
supposing that the associative recall took the form of a
sequence of ideas. We have good reason for affirming that the
woman had no ideas of the sounds which she uttered. Ideas
are the counterpart of percepts, but how should the necessary
percepts be formed simply by overhearing the strange
sentences? The discrimination, identification, and complex
synthesis of sound would have required minute and careful
study, together with an exceptional mental endowment. All
this we have to suppose in a young girl who is said to have
been a "simple creature," and who "could neither read nor
write". Is there any explanation admissible except that the
fever rendered the impressional centres more unstable and
excitable, and that in consequence the revival took the form
of a series of actual sensations ? We seem here to have
an instance of purely impressional association. Professor J.
Baumann mentions a case of very similar nature as having
recently occurred. A man who had taken an overdose of
morphia recited passages out of Homer. He was quite
ignorant of ancient Greek, and the explanation turned out to
be that, as a boy, he had overheard students committing
passages to memory.

There is also abundant evidence to show that even under
normal, or approximately normal, conditions impressional
revival may take place. It is difficult to explain such ex-
periences in the way of mental vision as those communicated
to Francis Galton by Mr. Henslow, without assuming more

* Coleridge, Biographia Literaria, p 55.

14 Analytic Psychology.

than mere ideation,^ Dr. Wi'gan refers to an English painter
who explains his mode of work in this way : " When a sitter
came I looked at him attentively for half an hour, sketching
from time to time on the canvas. I wanted no more. I put
away my canvas and took another sitter. When I wished to
resume my first portrait, / took the man and set him in the
chair^ where I saw him as distinctly as if he had been before
me in my own proper person — I may almost say more vividly.
I looked from time to time at the imaginary figure, then
worked with my pencil, then referred to the countenance, and
so on, just as I should have done had the sitter been there —
when I looked at the chair I saw the man. Gradually I began
to lose the distinction between the imaginary figure and the
real person ; and sometimes disputed with sitters that they
had been with me the day before. At last I was sure of it ;
and then — all is confusion. ... I lost my senses, and was
thirty years in an asylum."- Finally, I may mention an
experience of my own which greatly impressed me. Under
the influence of a large dose of haschisch I found myself totally
unable to distinguish between what I actually did and saw,
and what I merely thought about. The value of this ex-
perience lies in the fact that I was throughout able to observe
my own mental state.

All this evidence in favour of impressional revival does
not in the least countenance the theory that ideas are
merely faint revivals of impressions. On the contrary, it
tends strongly in the opposite direction. It shows that a
revived impression is itself an impression, and not an
idea. This is well brought out by the testimony of some
of Galton's correspondents. " There are some who visualise

^ Galton, Human Faculty and its Development, p. i6i, ff.
2 Wigan, A New View of Insanity, p. 125, quoted by Taine on Intelli-
gence, pp. 45-46.

Noetic Synthesis. 15

well, and who also are seers of visions, who declare that
the vision is not a vivid visualisation, but altogether a dif-
ferent phenomenon. . . . The following is a good instance
of this condition. A friend writes : ' I find it difficult to
define the difference between a waking vision and a mental
image, although the difference is very apparent to myself. I
think I can do it best in this way. If you go into a theatre
and look at a scene — say of a forest by moonlight — at the
back part of the stage you see every object distinctly and suffi-
ciently illuminated (being thus unlike a mere act of memory),
but it is nevertheless vague and shadowy, and you might have
difficulty in telling afterwards all the objects you have seen.
This resembles a mental image in point of clearness. The
waking vision is like what one sees in the open street in broad
daylight, when every object is distinctly impressed on the
memor}'. The two kinds of imagery differ also as regards
voluntariness, the image being entirely subservient to the will,
the visions entirely independent of it. They differ also in
point of suddenness, the images being formed comparatively
slowly as memory recalls each detail, and fading slowly as the
mental effort to retain them is relaxed, the visions appearing
and vanishing in an instant. The waking visions seem quite
close, filling as it were the whole head, while the mental image
seems farther away in some far-off recess of the mind.'"^ It
is evident that the uncontrollable nature of these visions make?
them unfit for use in a train of thought, and the same holds
good of Mr. Henslow's analogous experiences. But if the
case against the identification of impressional revival and
association, with ideal association and revival, is rather cor-
roborated than weakened by this evidence, it remains true that
impressions may be revived as well as ideas, and there is some
reason to suppose that they may even be associated with each

^ Galton, Human Faculty and its Development, pp. 164-65.

1 6 Analytic Psychology.

other. There is at least a presumptive possibility that the
process which we find operative in an exaggerated form in
the exceptional instances above quoted will not be wholly
inoperative under ordinary conditions. It is legitimate to
take account of the possibility that the quality of a sensation
may, by contiguous association, become modified in some such
way as the quality of a fundamental note is modified by its
upper tone. This suggestion will receive a more definite form
presently, when we come to discuss complex perception.

§ 4. Grades of Simple Perception.

The noetic synthesis involved in simple perception has
many different gradations, varying with the fineness of the
distinctions which are recognised. The shepherd who can
separately distinguish and identify each individual sheep in his
flock is greatly superior in this respect to the ordinary person
who can scarcely notice any difference between one sheep and
another, even with the fullest opportunities for comparison.
Many idiots require a long training before they can identify
colours or shapes with anything like ordinary accuracy ; and
the colour discrimination of the artist is as much superior to
that of most ordinary persons as the idiot's is inferior. Mr.
Edridge-Green quotes a case of a professional man of great
ability who " is unable to recognise his best friends (until they
speak). He has got into an omnibus and sat opposite his
mother, and thought to himself that he seemed to know her
face. . . . He has to judge in other ways, as by their speech, pe-
culiarities, etc. But he is able to draw, and the sketches (which
of course are not very complicated) are very fair representations
of the objects intended, and from which they are copied very
carefully. But on a minute examination of the drawings there
was found to be no individuality of form ; the curves and lines
were the simplest possible, and looked as if they might have

Noetic Synthesis. 17

been executed with the aid of a ruler and compasses, which, in
fact, many of them were," ^ A close pathological parallel to
this perceptual deficiency is found in a case of psychical blind-
ness reported by Groenouw. His patient could recognise a
statue of Mercury, as such, but not as the one which he had
himself carved ; he could draw a sofa, but not the particular
sofa in his own room. In most instances of psychical blind-
ness there is not merely a failure to identify, but a wrong
identification.

So far we have considered the bare fact of immediate identi-
'fication, disregarding whatever complexity may exist in the
object identified. In complex perception the object is com-
posed of distinct constituents, each of which may be separately
perceived. At the same time it forms for the percipient con-
sciousness a unity of such a nature that the perception of the
part involves the perception of the whole, as such. The per-
cepts of the partial constituents are percepts of the whole
from different points of view. Thus I may immediately
identify an object in the dark by means of touch, or I may
recognise it in the light by visual perception. The distinction
between simple and complex perception is rather logical than
real ; it seems impossible to adduce an instance in which an
object is simply identified without any discernment of its dif-
ferent parts or aspects. It would seem that an animal identi-
fies its prey at least from two points of view: (i) in the
moment of anticipation, (2) in the moment of fruition. In
the first moment it sees, smells or touches something eatable ;
in the second moment there emerges the distinctive feeling of
actually eating this something. Of course it would be absurd
to look for any case of absolutely simple perception in the
more developed consciousness.

It should be noted that in the absence of ideas the noetic

' Mtmory, pp. 75-76-
VOL. II. ?

1 8 Analytic Psychology.

synthesis involved both in simple and complex perception
operates as a principle determining the serial order of mental
process, only in so far as it determines bodily movement.
Thus in the case of the animal and its prey the initial percep-
tion of the object determines a sequence leading to the follow-
ing perception, through the medium of appropriate movements.
So the squirrel's recognition of a nut is a noetic synthesis
determining the successive experiences involved in the gather-
ing of a store of nuts.

§ 5. Complex Perception.

We must now carefully examine the nature of the complex
percept, as such. For this purpose it is sufficient to take as a
typical instance our ordinary apprehension of a sensible thing
such as an orange. This involves three kinds of complexity :
(i) The thing identified has a definite configuration in space,
and therefore contains a plurality of locally distinguishable
parts ; (2) it has a plurality of qualities, perceptible by means
of different senses ; (3) it passes through a number of changes
in time. Now, there are two modes in which we may attempt
to explain perceptual complexity in its threefold form. With
the first we have become familiarised in psychological text-
books. According to this view the complex percept is con-
stituted by the associative cohesion of its component percepts
The association is supposed to be of so intimate a kind that any
one of these component percepts revives the ideas of the rest
in a compact mass. No one has enunciated this theory with
so much clearness, or followed out its consequences with so
much logical rigour, as Mr. Herbert Spencer. He argues
that complex perception is a complex inference. " The
structural, tangible, gustable, ponderable and other sensible
characters ascribed to an orange, are not included in the visual
impression received from the orange ; but, as all admit, are in-

Noetic Synthesis. 19

ferred from that impression, yet these various inferred charac-
ters are included in the concept — an orange. When I reach
out my hand towards this reddish-yellow something, under the
belief that it is juicy, and will slake thirst, I have already, in
judging it to be an orange, conceived it as having various
attributes besides the observed attributes ; every one of which
I know to exist, only by the same process that I know the
juiciness to exist. The act of classing, then, involves a whole
group of inferences ; of which the particular inference avow-
edly drawn is only one. And had some other been drawn, as
that the taste was sweet, what is now distinguished as the in-
ference would have been one of the data ; that is, one of the
attributes involved in the judgment — this is an orange. Should
it be said that these various unspecified attributes are not in-
ferred in the act of classing, but that the entire thought implied
is — All reddish-yellow spherical, polished, pitted bodies of a
certain size are juicy ; the untruth of the position will be seen
on remembering what takes place if a mock-orange made up
of painted stone is laid hold of. The unexpected weight and
hardness instantly lead to a change of classification ; it is at
once perceived that the body is not an orange. And this fact
proves that something else than juiciness had been inferred ;
had been wrongly inferred ; and had involved a wrong classi-
fication." ^ Mr. Spencer's reasoning here appears to me to be
irresistible. If complex perception is constituted by a group of
associative revivals, then every part or attribute of the per-
ceived complex, which is logically presupposed in identifying
it, must be reproduced.

Mr. Spencer admits that this result appears " incredible,
both as asserting what self-analysis gives no evidence of, and
as implying a mental activity inconceivably great "? But he
seems to think that all difficulties are dispelled by the magic

^Principles of Psychology, vol. ii., pp. iig«i2o; cf. als ) pp. 149-151.
^ Ibid., p. 149.

20 Analytic Psychology,

phrase " organic classification ". The imposing assemblage of
distinct acts of identification elude introspection and retrospec-
tion because they take place unconsciously. But here, it
would seem, Mr. Spencer fails to observe the necessities of
the case. The essence of the theory is that the complex
percept is actually built up by the mere juxtaposition of the
component percepts. The relation between the percept of
the whole and the percepts of its parts is expressible as a
numerical equation. If, then, the component percepts are
unconscious, their sum must be unconscious also. But it is
not so. On the contrary, it is a mode of attentive conscious-
ness ; therefore its constituents must be modes of attentive
consciousness also. If we suppose them to be unconscious, then
their numerical sum must also be unconscious, just as stones
remain stones even when they are heaped together. Of course
a plurality of conditions may give rise to a consequence dif-
ferent in nature from the conditions themselves, but when this
is so the consequence cannot be regarded as merely identical
with the conditions themselves taken collectively. Mr.
Spencer's reasoning must therefore be regarded as a reductio
ad absurdum of the theory from which it starts. The percept
of the whole is not the sum of the percepts of the parts.
Complex perception, as it ordinarily takes place, is possible
only through schematic apprehension. If one part of the
complex whole be given, we have such a prenotion or
schematic anticipation of the remainder as enables us to
mentally inquire for it, and, if circumstances permit, to seek
for it in detail by actually touching, tasting, seeing, etc., or to
call up the corresponding ideas in succession.^ This mental

^ The reader is requested to remember that my standpoint in this
account of perception is analytic. The ultimate aim of psychology is
to give an exposition in genetic order not involving reference to elements
in consciousness later in development : but this cannot be satisfactorily
attempted without a preliminary analysis of our actual developed con-
sciousness. In the present work, which I have for this reason called

Noetic Synthesis. 21

prospectiveness constitutes the possibility and controls the
order of a series of actual percepts or ideal revivals, but it
does not, at the outset, already contain these ideas and percepts.
It is not their sum, but their noetic synthesis.

This will become clearer if we examine more closely by the
aid of introspection what takes place in the apprehension of a
more or less familiar sensible thing. What we commonly
call " things are in the first place characterised by a deter-
minate configuration, which marks them off from their
surroundings by definite lines and surfaces of demarcation.
They have also a definite magnitude and a definite distance
from the percipient. Besides this, we apprehend them as
having insides as well as outsides. Now, it is obvious that the
full shape of an object is never directly presented to the eye,
and not often presented to the touch. In looking at a thing,
such as an apple or a book, I only see that aspect of it which
is turned towards the eye ; the other side is invisible. But
when I perceive an apple, as such, I certainly identify it as
having spherical shape. On the bridge of Clare College in

Analytic Psyclwlogy, my primary aim is to break up the complexity of
developed human consciousness into its components, and to show their
interconnection. In a future work I intend to take up the genetic
treatment, under the title Genetic Psychology. There is not, I think, in
my present account of perception, any confusion between the perceptual
and more developed attitudes of consciousness. The primary thought-
synthesis, which forms the essence of perception, must of course have a
larger significance for beings capable of mental imagery, than for beings
who are incapable of it. It must have a still larger significance for beings
capable of conception in the proper sense. In a creature who has no
mental imagery, the perceptual attitude will serve to systematise the
movements of its sense-organs and of its limbs in relation to perceived
objects. In a creature with mental imagery, it may also serve to guide
and systematise ideal revivals, supplementing and expanding the primary
discernment. For the conceptual consciousness, perception may expand
itself into a conscious classification of the various parts and aspects of
an object. But in all cases the perception itself, in its simple initial
phase, is distinct from the further processes for which it furnishes the
primary clue.

22 Analytic Psychology.

Cambridge there are a number of stone balls. The unsuspect-
ing stranger is sometimes challenged to count these correctly ;
he proceeds to his task and counts fourteen. It comes
upon him as a shock of surprise that there are only thirteen
and three-quarters, a bit being chipped out from the unseen
side of one of them. Evidently he has identified each
of the balls as having a spherical shape. Now, what takes
place in identification of this kind? Is it true that the
percipient mentally visualises the part of the object which
he does not see ? Certainly my own experience does not bear
out this assumption. I identify an apple as soon as I see it ;
but in so doing I do not usually have a mental image of the
appearance of its unseen side. I may if I choose attempt to
call up such an image, but to do so costs an effort, and an
effort which, in my case, is never vvholly successful. More-
over, in making it, my attention is diverted from that part of
the whole which is actually within the field of view. Mr.
Galton refers to the power of visualising at the same moment
all round the image of a solid body as an exceptional gift
possessed only by a favoured few. " Many can do so nearly,
but not altogether round (the image) of a terrestrial globe.
An eminent mineralogist assures me that he is able to imagine
simultaneously all the sides of a crystal with which he is
familiar." ^ The obvious conclusion from introspective data is
that in perceiving the shape of an ordinary sensible object we
apprehend the whole without apprehending all the parts.

This conclusion is corroborated when we consider that in
visual perception the shape which we actually recognise is
represented by the visual appearance, not merely partially, but
for the most part inaccurately. This applies primarily to per-
ceived magnitude. If we attend to the visual appearance
rather than to the object, we find that it varies in size accord-

^ Human Faculty, p. 98.

Noetic Synthesis. 23

ing to our distance from the thing seen. At great distances
this variation is forced upon our notice. Looking down from
a high tower on men walking in the streets of a town, we
remark with a kind of surprise how small they look. But for
comparatively short distances the variation passes unnoticed
unless we expressly measure the visual angle. The reason is
that the visual magnitude, as such, is habitually disregarded,
serving only as a sign of the real magnitude. But this real
magnitude, in its distinction from apparent magnitude, is
neither actually seen nor mentally visualised. Nor is it repre-
sented by an ideally revived tactual or motor complex. There
is no trace of such a complex in consciousness.

The variation of the visual magnitude according to distance
involves a corresponding variation in the apparent shape of
things as we see them from different points of view. For
shape is conditioned by the relative magnitude of the different
parts of a spatial whole. But this relative magnitude, and
consequently the shape of a thing, varies according to the per-
spective. The shape of a familiar thing as we immediately
perceive it is not the same as any of these visual appearances
or of all of them taken collectively. What we recognise is
the configuration which accounts for them all and enables us
to anticipate them in serial order. But this true shape which
we directly recognise, is not represented in consciousness by
any corresponding image, visual or tactile.

We cannot here attempt to decide between the conflicting
theories by which psychologists explain the visual percept of
distance or depth. But on any theory whatever which has
any claim to the attention of modern psychology, this percept
involves a complex synthesis, and only part of the con-
stituents synthesised are present in as sensory data.
The rest are " suggested " by a multitude of signs such as the
experience connected with convergence and divergence of the
eyes, accommodation of the lens, distribution of light and

24 Analytic Psychology.

shade aerial perspective, known magnitude of the object, and
so forth. Psychologists differ as to what it is precisely that is
suggested by these signs. Some suppose that it is a train of
tactual and motor experiences. Others lay equal stress on
suggested visual experiences. But, on any view, much is sug-
gested which is not represented by mental imagery. If in
perceiving the distance of an object from me, I recall a series
of tactual and motor percepts, involved in actually moving
towards the object, it is certain that such " recall " does not
consist in the ideal reproduction of the links of the perceptual
train. The tactual-motor series is apprehended as a whole
without discrimination of its parts.

We apprehend things as having insides as well as outsides.
We do not usually represent to ourselves these insides either
in the way of visual, tactual, or motor imagery. If we ex-
pressly make the attempt to do so, we picture cross-sections
of the object taken in various directions. But in this process
we are only making explicit what is already implicitly appre-
hended. We are enabled to make these ideal cross-sections
only because we have already recognised the object as having
a certain definite volume. This is the noetic synthesis which
guides our ideal analysis.

The synthesis of the data of different senses in the per-
ception of a single object is a topic on which associationists
specially love to dwell. But introspective analysis easily
shows that it cannot be accounted for by association of
ideas. Consider first the relation of tactual to visual extension.
When I glance at an apple, and recognise it as such, I may, if
I am so disposed, mentally recall a series of images corre-
sponding to the experiences which would arise if I explored
the surface of the object with my hand. But it certainly is
not necessary that I should do so. In most cases I do nothing
of the kind. When the thing perceived only appears for a
moment and then disappears, there is no time for any such

Noetic Synthesis. 25

process. Yet it cannot be truly said that what I recognise is
merely the visual appearance, as such : for, as we have just
shown, visual appearance, as such, is not recognised except in
so far as it is taken to correspond with the real shape and size
of the thing. The real shape and size, as such, are not appre-
hended as either specifically visual or specifically tactual. The
varying visual presentations of the object and its presentation
to touch, are modes in which the real extension appears. This
real extension logically includes the synthesis of the various
optical percepts with each other and with the tactual. Its
complex totality is apprehended in any particular perception
only in a schematic way. To ideally resolve it into its con-
stituents requires time and effort. As a noetic synthesis, it
systematises our procedure when we observe and explore the
object in detail by a series of muscular movements, or when we
ideally analyse it. When I see a familiar thing, I feel that if I
wish to examine it I shall know what to look for and how to find
it. I have a prenotion or presentiment of the whole before I
resolve it into its components. The complex percept is con-
stituted by this prenotion. The case seems somewhat dif-
ferent when the object is touched without being seen. When
this is so, there is a strong disposition to supplement the
tactual percept by the visual picture. But a long series of
observations on this point has fully convinced me that the
visualisation, though frequent and natural, is by no means uni-
versal. In touching an object in the dark I can often, by a
previous volition, exclude the revival of visual imagery. I
know in the moment of contact that I can if I choose realise
what the thing looks like ; but I refrain from doing so. This
knowledge that " I can if I choose" is noetic synthesis ; and
so is the anticipation which sometimes occurs that the image
is going to emerge even against my will. The connection of
smell and hearing with the other senses is of similar nature.
When I hear a bell, and know it to be a bell, I may or may

26 Analytic Psychology.

not picture it. The smell of a rose may or may not recall
the specific representation of its shape and colour. What
actually happens varies greatly with different persons and in
different circumstances.

But if association of ideas forms no essential part of the
ordinary perception of things, it remains possible that what we
have called impressional association may be present. In other
words, the visual appearance may, by its preformed connection
with tactual experience, be modified in a peculiar way, so as
to be the vehicle of percepts for which it would otherwise be
incompetent. There is something to be said in favour of this
view. We say that a thing looks " hard " or " soft," " smooth "
or " rough," " cold " or " hot," " sharp " or " blunt ". Do these
distinctions simply express differences in the optical experience
itself, as such ? The evidence seems to exclude such a sup-
position. Ice looks cold, because we have felt it to be cold.
If it had always been warm to the touch, it might have looked
warm. Yet its cold look is not a suggested idea ; it is some-
thing which is presented as if included in the visual appear-
ance as an integral part of it. It belongs to the impression in
such a way that any attempt to separate it destroys its specific
character. We are tempted to regard it as a modification
of visual experience imparted to it by previous association with
experiences involved in contact. This is perhaps still more
obviously implied in the " wet " or " dry " appearance of things
to the eye. To take another instance, it sometimes happens
that in a mountainous country the condition of the atmosphere
makes the scenery appear dreamy and unsubstantial. The
illusory impression persists in spite of the full conviction that
the objects seen are very substantial indeed. However far we
may succeed in ideally recalling their true nature, they con-
tinue to preserve their unreal and dreamlike appearance to the
eye. Sound furnishes a good illustration of these acquired
modalities of sensation. Thus we speak of cracking, crash-

Noetic Synthesis. 27

ing, bursting, splitting, grinding, rushing noises. Doubtless in
each of these cases there is something specific in the auditory
impression itself apart from association ; but this does not
seem sufficient to explain the distinctive peculiarities of the
impressional experience. There seems to be more in the
impression than is actually heard : this added element
nevertheless qualifies the noise itself, much as overtones
qualify a musical note.

This peculiar kind of impressional association seems to be
recognised by Dr. Ward in his Encyclopcedia article ; at any
rate, he gives a very good illustration of it. " The sight of a
suit of polished armour instantly reinstates and steadily main-
tains all that we retain of former sensations of its hardness
and smoothness and coldness : " ^ he points out that this
mode of mental combination is widely different from that
which is properly entitled " association of ideas," such as is
exemplified when the sight of the armour " calls up ideas now
of tournaments, now of crusades, and so through all the chang-
ing imagery of romance ". ^ On the other hand, he seems to
draw no line of demarcation between the noetic synthesis in-
volved in perception, and the increased complexity of impres-
sion which may arise from preformed association. He seems
to refer to both indiscriminately, when he speaks of " the
manner in which the constituent elements in a perception are
combined ". He proposes to give the name Complication to
the peculiar mode of synthesis characteristic of a percept. I
adopt this suggestion so far as concerns impressional com-
plexity. But I am inclined to regard such amalgamation as
a special case of the working of the associative principle,
whereas Dr. Ward confines the application of the term
association to ideas exclusively. My reasons are: (l) That
so far as association is operative in determining an ideal

^Encycl. Brit., gth ed., No. xx., p. 57.

28 Analytic Psychology.

train, it manifests itself as essentially analogous in nature
to the principle on which complication depends ; (2) That
a criticism of the associationist point of view can only be
made thoroughly effective if we give the widest possible
range to their principle of explanation.

It may be contended that both perceptual synthesis and
complication are initially association of ideas, and that they
took their present form through the influence of habit. As far
as regards perceptual synthesis we have to urge against this
view the comparatively late development of ideas. Even the
shortest ideal train presupposes the existence of a noetic
synthesis which determines and controls the succession of its
parts. As Dr. Ward says : " Ideas as such are from the first
complex, and do not begin to appear in consciousness apart
from the impressions which they are said to reproduce, till
these impressions . . . have been more or less firmly synthe-
sised into percepts or intuitions ". ^ It is true that complex
perceptual synthesis conditions from the outset an orderly
sequence of experiences, but this sequence is initially a
sequence of percepts, determined by appropriate movements.
So far as regards complication, the case is perhaps not quite
so clear. It may, however, be fairly urged : (i) That the actual
nature of the impressional complexity is not accounted for
by supposing it to originate in association of ideas. Through
habit a series of ideal revivals may come to take place auto-
matically. We have a conspicuous illustration of this in a
train of words which express thought without being them-
selves attended to ; but in this case there is no complication
in the restricted sense of the term. The word remains an
experience distinct from the thought which it expresses, and
can easily be recognised as such by introspection. In order
to lead to complication, on the contrary, the idea would have

^Encycl. Brit, gth ed., No. xx., p. 57,

Noetic Synthesis. 29

to lose its separate existence entirely, and be amalgamated
with the impression. (2) That in being so amalgamated, it
would cease to be an idea, and become an impression by
mere repetition. Evidence of the possibility of such a
transformation under such conditions is not forthcoming. (3)
That the assumption seems unnecessary. Impressional
association is of itself enough to account for the result ; and
we have already given reasons for regarding such association
as possible, at least in the manner and degree required. It is
best to regard complication as a precondition of complex
perception, and complex perception as a precondition of ideal
revival. To go further into this question here would lead us
too far in the discussion of genetic problems which are re-
served for another treatise.

§ 6. Grades of Perceptual Complexity.

The different grades of complexity of perceptual synthesis
may be illustrated by a comparison of normal human beings
with idiots. With the normal child all the senses concur
towards the same end. With idiots, on the contrary, a
single sense, or at the most two, are brought into play by an
impression. This impression remains isolated. It does not
produce a cognition in which the data of different senses are
synthesised. Some idiots are almost exclusively confined to
visual perception, others to auditory. In the case of blind or
deaf persons, the sense which does not exist cannot be
awakened : it is otherwise with the idiot. With him the organ
exists, but perception is defective and badly organised, so that
it cannot be excited without assistance. Thus in the training
of idiots it is necessary to develop the senses, or rather the per-
ceptive centres, exclusively ; to make use of those which fulfil
their function in order to develop those which do not ; to force
these last to develop themselves by making their exercise a
condition of the attainment of pleasure and of the satisfaction

30 Analytic Psychology.

of desire. In this way, by a long and tedious course of train-
ing, it becomes possible to raise the idiot more or less near to
the level of ordinary perceptual consciousness. This percep-
tual consciousness is a common possession of the human race
under normal conditions, because the predisposition to it is
transmitted by heredity, and its development is provided for
by the elementary and universal conditions of human life.
Animals, on the contrary, and especially the lower animals,
have much simpler percepts. Fishes which can see may none
the less identify their prey merely by smell, without the aid of
vision.

§ 7. How DOES A Sense-Impression Suggest a
Percept ?

We have seen that complex perception does not consist in
a given impression reviving a cluster of faint images of
previous impressions. None the less it does involve a mental
transition which may be properly called a suggestion or repro-
duction. What is primarily given is a certain impressional
experience having a specific character, and this suggests the
percept of an object having a correspondingly specific character.
Now, this connection between the sense-experience and the per-
cept is not of course ultimately dependent on association. It
follows from the very nature and genesis of the percept as a
correlation of sensory data that these data should be capable
of bringing it into consciousness. Nevertheless, the associative
principle must co-operate from the outset in the perceptual
process. It comes into play in so far as the transition from
a given sensory experience to a corresponding percept is
strengthened by repetition. Thus, if a similar impressional
experience is connected with two different kinds of objects,
the resulting percept will, ceteris paribus, be that of the object
which is most familiar. We may take as an example the fact
that a human face does not appear hollow in the pseudoscope.

Noetic Synthesis. 31

As Professor James says, "to couple faces and hollowness
violates all our habits of association "} The general possi-
bility of the transition from sense-impression to percept
depends upon the existence of the percept as something
distinct from the sense-presentations to which it serves as a
rallying point and centre of connection. But, in the case of
this or that special transition, the strength of the suggestive
tendency is conditioned by association, viz., by repetition in
previous experience. The part played by association becomes
more prominent in proportion as the percept is more deter-
minate and specific. Thus my apprehension of a thing simply
as a solid body depends on a general form of noetic synthesis,
probably preconditioned by inherited brain structure ; but my
apprehension of it as a chair, or a table, or an apple, or an
orange, depends in a much larger measure on the repetition of
special experiences. Association serves to particularise gene-
ral modes of noetic synthesis.

§ 8. Noetic Synthesis and the Train of Ideas.

In general, ideal revival involves a higher level of noetic
consciousness than even complex perception. The existence
of an inward train of mental imagery presupposes an interest
independent of the actual presentation of the corresponding
object to the senses. It presupposes the direction of mental
activity to some end which cannot be attained, or cannot be
so well attained, by immediate bodily action on the occurrence
of the appropriate external occasion. This end constitutes
the unity of the train of ideas. It involves reference to an
object which becomes progressively specified as the successive
links of the series emerge. Even when the ideal series con-
sists simply in the mental representation of the various qualities
and aspects of a particular object of perception, the ideal

* Psychology, vol. ii., pp. 87-88.

32 Analytic Psychology.

revival has a motive which transcends the interest of direct
perception. It may be that, as in the case of the apples and
oranges which we have discoursed about above, the analysis is
prompted by psychological curiosity. It may be that we wish
to fix the character of the object in our memory, or to
mentally compare it in detail with other objects, or to decide
on its fitness for a special use we propose to make of it. I
may see a fork, identify it at once, and in consequence apply
it to its appropriate purpose. On the other hand, I may
find that I have lost my corkscrew, and it may occur to me
that perhaps the fork may do instead ; I may then mentally
picture it in its supposed application, and ideally anticipate
the probable result. In the end, I may refrain from the
use of the fork, and perhaps try a penknife or knock
off the head of the bottle. The comparison of the relative
fitness of these different means, in view of the proposed end,
further complicates the ideal series. Throughout it is the /
reference to the proposed end which at once gives unity to the
series and constitutes its raison d'etre. From the genetic
point of view it is probably in such revivals as this that the
life of ideas emerges from the life of percepts. A more
advanced form of mental train is found in the memory-series
which ideally represents a sequence of past experiences in
their original order. Here the noetic synthesis involves the
more or less definite apprehension of a period of time as a
whole, and the successive steps represent in detail the succes-
sive moments as they followed each other in the past.
Time-consciousness of this kind is very much in advance of
anything which is necessarily involved even in complex per-
ception. There is yet another way in which ideal synthesis
transcends perceptual synthesis. Not merely the series as a
whole, but its component parts, involve a more comprehensive
objective reference. This is obvious in the case of the higher
processes of thought, where the links of the ideal series are

Noetic Synthesis. 33

represented by general terms ; e.g., the train of thought which
I am now following is very far indeed from being a mere
literal translation into ideal imagery of a series of percepts.
But the same holds good, in some degree, even in more
concrete revivals. Ideas are always, in some measure, more
generalised than percepts. In a memory-train it is true that
we may refer each object as it emerges to a particular place
and time ; but this reference to " there " and " then " is distinct
in nature from the perceptual "here " and "now". It is, so to
speak, a general and abstract " there " and " then " ; it is deter-
mined by the relations of the several parts of the time-series
to each other, and it presupposes that apprehension of the
series as a whole which determines the order and connection
of the parts. The "thereness" and "thenness" as thus deter-
mined may even be considered in abstraction from the nature
of particular objects, and so become the subject-matter of
mathematical science. Again, inasmuch as successive ideas
interest and engage attention only in so far as they contribute
to realise an ideal end, and so serve to work out a train of
thought, the determinate particularity of percepts would in
their case be an irrelevant encumbrance. It seems also, in
point of fact, unattainable for the vast majority of mankind.
Apart from exceptional effort to attain vivid and detailed
reproduction, mental imagery is usually indistinct and blurred
as compared with the corresponding percepts. Taken in
isolation, an image answers rather to the common features
of a multiplicity of varying percepts than to any special
one of them in particular. The particularity of a percept
arises from the determinate nature of the impressions
which condition it. In the case of the idea these im-
pressions are absent. The ideal apprehension is not,
therefore, particularised in this way, but in quite a different
way. The thought-reference in this case is restricted and

limited by the relation of the terms of the ideal series to
VOL. II. 3

34 Analytic Psychology.

each other and to the whole. Every image is in some
degree a generic image.

The varying degrees of noetic synthesis within the sphere
of ideal and conceptual consciousness broadly correspond to
the degree of intelligence of the individual, either in general, or
in certain special directions. The more developed it is, the less
conspicuous by comparison is the part played by mere associa-
tion. A person of disciplined intelligence in narrating an
occurrence brings together the really relevant points as parts
of a systematic whole, discarding whatever is superfluous. A
country yokel seems unable to proceed otherwise than by
casual associations of proximity in time and space. The
important items are for him so embedded in a flood of
irrelevant details that it is difficult to disentangle from his
chaotic narrative the essential circumstances. In other
words, there is present in the one case a mental synthesis
which is absent in the other. In the one case the vivid,
distinct, and persistent apprehension of the train of
events as a whole, so controls and guides the ideal train
as to prevent divergence into cross series which would interrupt
and tangle the narrative. In the other no such mental clue is
definitely and steadily operative. Hence each casual associa-
tion due to coincidence in place and time is liable to lead to
digressions. Nor are such differences merely a matter of
education. Given two persons with equal opportunities and
equal industry, and it may happen that there are levels of
noetic synthesis easily attainable by the one and utterly out
of the reach of the other. There are some persons whom we
could not by the wildest stretch of imagination suppose
capable of understanding the binomial theorem, or of appre-
ciating literary style, or of conceiving a moral ideal> or of
making an architectural plan of any complexity. And yet
such people may have excellent memories, and may have
exceptional perceptive endowments. How far the possible

Noetic Synthesis. 35

advancement of intelligence is from depending on the amount
of material furnished for mental elaboration by the senses is
well seen in the case of Helen Keller. Her intellectual grasp
in the most varied departments of knowledge is markedly
superior to that of most children of the same age, and yet she
has been from infancy limited to the sense of touch.

A few special illustrations will serve to place in a more
definite light the nature of noetic synthesis. Take first what
phrenologists call " Locality," or the power of combining the
relative position of places in a systematic whole. This is a
power that I myself possess in a very small measure. I can
therefore sympathise with the helplessness of the Damaras, as
described by Mr. Galton. " A Damara never generalises ; he
has no one name for a river, but a different name for nearly
every reach of it ; thus the Swakop is a Namaqua name ;
there is no Damara word for it. A Damara who knew the
road perfectly from A to B, and again from B to C, would
have no idea of a straight cut from A to C ; he has no map of
the country in his mind, but an infinity of local details. He
recollects every stump or stone, and the more puerile the
object the more strongly does he seem to recollect it. Thus,
if you say, ' I intend to sleep by the side of the great hill
where the river-bed runs close under its foot,' he would never
recognise the place by the description, but if you said, * under
the tree, a little way on the other side of the place where the
black and white ox lowed when the red ox was in front of
him, and Koniati dropped his assegai,' etc., etc., every savage
in the party would understand the exact locality. The
Damaras pick out their way step by step ; they never dream
of taking a course and keeping to it. All their observations
are directed to spoors, sticks, and stones, and they perpetually
look down on the ground, and not round about them." ^

1 F. Galton, Th6 Narrative 0/ an Explorer in Tropical South Africa^
pp. 176-177.

36 Analytic Psychology.

We find the opposite extreme in savages who live by the
chase, such as the North American Indians or the Australian
aborigines, who seem almost incapable of losing their way.
Another test of this sense of locality is the power of finding
one's way about in a building. Personally I suffer consider-
able inconvenience in a large hotel, as I become ashamed of
having continually to ask waiters where my rooms are. Even
when I do become able to find my way about, it is only in a
sort of hand-to-mouth fashion. I do not really apprehend the
relative positions of places ; when I see and recognise a
certain object I remember that I have either to pass it or to
turn, and thus I find my way, so to speak, like the Damaras,
"step by step".

Another good illustration of noetic synthesis is furnished
by the differences in the apprehension of number which
we find in different individuals. Zerah Colburn, "on being
asked the square root of 106929, answered 327, before the
original number could be written down. He was then
required to find the cube root of 268336125, and with equal
facility and promptness he replied 645."^ "On being re-
quested to give the factors" of " 17 1395 ... he named
5 X 34279, 7 X 24485, 59 X 2905, 83 X 2065, 35 X 4897,
295 X 581, and 413 X 415."^ He identified prime numbers
as soon as they were proposed. " On being interrogated as
to the method by which he obtained these results, the boy
constantly declared that he did not know how the answers
came into his mind." He was not "able to perform on
paper a simple sum in multiplication or division". 3 Now,
whatever may have been the exact piocedure of Colburn,
one thing is evident. The large numbers with which he dealt
in such a marvellous way must have had the same kind of

* Dr. Carpenter, Mental Physiology, p. 233. * Ibid,

' Ibid., p. 234.

Noetic Synthesis. ^'j

transparence for him as simple numbers such as 9, 6, 12, or 3.
The figures given him represented from the outset in his mind
a systematic synthesis of all the various processes which the
constitution of the number admitted of. He had only to
translate into explicit apprehension the knowledge which he
consciously possessed as an implicit apprehension. His mental
attitude towards the number 106929, when he was asked to
give its square root, was in its initial stage comparable to
what mine would be if I were asked to give the square root of
25. We find an instructive contrast to this case of extra-
ordinary mental endowment in the exactly opposite condition
common in idiots. As a rule, the utmost in the way of arith-
metic that idiots are capable of learning is addition, and
occasionally subtraction.

Certain idiots have a good auditory memory, which enables
them to add up without any real insight into the nature of
number. Thus they say, 2 and 2, 4 ; 4 and 2, 6, etc. It is
the same with multiplication by 2, 3, and 5. But if instead
of following the order of addition or multiplication with
which they are familiar, the numbers are inverted, they are no
longer able to proceed.^

As another illustration of noetic synthesis we may take
the apprehension of grammatical form. The analysis of
language into distinct parts of speech, and the grouping
of these parts of speech in appropriate order and with
appropriate inflections, into sentences, involve a general
apprehension of syntactic form guiding and controlling the
iserial succession of words and ideas. In certain diseases
of language this synthetic apprehension becomes seriously
impaired. Inflections and connecting particles are omitted ;
the order of words becomes chaotic, and it is only with
great difficulty that the meaning can be divined. Dr.

* J. Voisin, L'Idiotiet p. 213.

38 Analytic Psychology.

Broadbent describes a case of this kind. The patient
was evidently unable to " propositionise ". Though names
were more or less remembered, there was loss of the
faculty of constructing a sentence. Thus the patient cor-
rected " the statement that he awoke up from sleep paralysed
and speechless, somewhat as follows : * No — evening, even-
ing— put down my cigar — smoking, smoking not quarter of
an hour — all at once' — indicating by gestures the loss of
power in the limbs, and adding — * Couldn't speak '. Again,
wishing to inform me that he had heard from a brother in
America, to whom a friend had written respecting his attack,
he came up to me, fumbling in his pocket for a letter (not the
one from his brother, as he told me on inquiry), and say-
ing 'Brother — brother — 'Merica — letter — New York — two
brothers in America '."^ In a case quoted by Kussmaul
from Gogol, a young man on being asked to give the history
of his own illness, replied : " Ich habe 1869 als Kutscher
gewesen und als Kutsche habe welche mir als ich diene haben
es mir meine Pferde als Kutscher bei dem der Diener
gewesen. Und ich musste es runter auf meine Kutscher
und haben sie meine Eisen und haben sic Pferde auf mein
Fuss und meine und da haben sie das Eisen auf meine Kopf
und das Blut ist fort." 2

As an example of a remarkably high level of noetic
synthesis, we may quote without comment from Mozart's own
account of his method of composition. " My subject enlarges
itself, becomes methodised and defined, and the whole, though
it be long, stands almost complete and finished in my mind,
so that I can survey it, like a fine picture or a beautiful
statue, at a glance. Nor do I hear in my imagination the
parts successively, but I hear them, as it were, all at once
{gleich alles zusammen). . . . When I proceed to write down

^ Brain, vol. i., p. 486.

• Kussmaul, Storungcn der Sprache, p. 199.

Noetic Synthesis. 39

my ideas, I take out of the bag of my memory, if I may use
that phrase, what has previously been collected into it in the
way I have mentioned. For this reason, the committing to
paper is done quickly enough ; for everything is, as I said
before, already finished."^

§ 9. Mutual Implication of Synthesis
AND Analysis.

The advance of noetic synthesis in complexity necessarily
involves a corresponding analysis. In order that the parts of
a whole, as such, may be combined, they must be distinguished.
When a person first hears a foreign language, it is for him a
confused jumble of sounds, in which he fails to distinguish
the separate words and sentences. His condition is com-
parable to extreme phases of that form of aphasia which is
called "word-deafness". In process of time he gradually
learns to divide the components of the language and to
identify each separately. In so doing, he performs both an
analysis and a synthesis, each of which is impossible without
the other. He analyses in so far as he distinguishes the sepa-
rate words and sentences from the stream of sound in which
they occur ; on the other hand he at the same time, and by
the same process, combines and identifies as a whole the
sounds which enter into the composition of the units of
speech which he learns to distinguish. So the ability to give
an orderly and clear account of an occurrence, without being
led off by casual associations into irrelevant details, obviously
involves analysis as well as synthesis. Insight into the
essential interconnection of the events narrated, at the same
time involves a sharp distinction of these events from each
other, and from their superfluous accompaniments.

There is yet another way in which analysis may involve

^ Holmes's Life of Mozart ^ pp. 317-318.

40 Analytic Psychology.

synthesis and vice versd. In distinguishing a component of
one whole, we usually connect it with another. Thus, in the
above instance, to distinguish a word as a component of a
spoken discourse is ipso facto to identify it with other similar
words. So in general, to discriminate a thing from the con-
text in which it appears is to refer it to some other context
in which it has appeared, or may appear. In this way
different modes of noetic synthesis, so to speak, intersect
each other, and are interwoven in a complex system. If we
conjoin this kind of union with that involved in the re-
lation of higher to lower syntheses, we obtain something like
an adequate conception of the systematic unity which charac-
terises a developed mind as a whole.

§ 10. Noetic Synthesis and Apperception.

The above exposition naturally suggests a problem of
fundamental importance. How does noetic synthesis arise ?
By what process do we pass from a lower grade of it to a
higher grade of it ? The answer to these questions, so far as
it falls within the scope of the present volume, will be dis-
cussed in the chapter on Apperception. In order to define
apperception, we must combine the conception of retentive-
ness with that of noetic synthesis. When we consider a
noetic synthesis not merely as involved in this or that con-
scious process, but as a mode of mental grouping which per-
sists as a disposition when it has ceased to operate in actual
consciousness, we have the idea of an apperceptive system.
It is through the gradual growth and differentiation of such
systems that new phases of noetic synthesis arise. Of especial
importance in this connection is the effect of the development
of one system on the development of another, as conditioned
by that intersection of different modes of noetic synthesis
referred to in § 7. The process which I have called Conflict

Noetic Synthesis. 4 i

is also an indispensable factor. Before attacking this problem
at close quarters, it will be necessary to consider two topics :
(i) That aspect of association, and especially of association
as controlled by noetic synthesis, which appears in its most
developed forms in the mental transitions which constitute
reasoning and constructive imagination. This subject will
engage us in chap. vi. on Relative Suggestion. (2) The
connection of cognitive grouping with conation, which will be
treated of in chap, vii.

§ II. Final Remarks.

It may be said that at present the psychological world is
divided into two camps ; on the one side are the champions of
Association, on the other the champions of Apperception. In
the present chapter I have definitely sided with the second
party. I cannot find in association, in the widest sense of the
word, the sole ultimate form of cognitive combination. What
I termed noetic synthesis undoubtedly has a rough corre-
spondence with what Wundt calls apperception. There is,
however, an important distinction. Noetic synthesis owes, in
my view, its peculiarity to the introduction of a distinct kind
of mental factor, the apprehension of the whole which deter-
mines the order and connection of the apprehension of the
parts. This apprehension of the whole is a content of con-
sciousness which operates in a certain assignable way. Such
a conception is widely different from that of the reaction of
consciousness upon its own content, which seems to form the
essence of Wundt's " apperception ". I venture to think that
my position is not open to the objections brought by such critics
as Munsterberg against that of Wundt. The main point of
Munsterberg's contention I take to be as follows. In order
to define and investigate a process, we must be able to assign
the special and definite terms between which it takes
place, the special and definite factors which enter into it.

42 Analytic Psychology.

Now Wundfs *' consciousness " or " disposition of conscious-
ness" cannot be regarded as such a special and definite
factor; therefore his whole procedure must be involved in
vagueness and a kind of mystery. This objection does not
extend to the conception of noetic synthesis ; for the schematic
apprehension of a whole is as much a distinct content of con-
sciousness and a distinct factor in mental process, as is the
sensation of red or blue. Another aspect of Miinsterberg's
contention is the alleged difficulty or impossibility of assigning
a clearly intelligible physiological correlate of apperception.
This cannot, I think, be fairly urged against the conception
of noetic synthesis. Higher and lower levels of noetic
synthesis correspond to higher and lower levels of neural
synthesis. We have already to hand an impressive pictorial
expression and illustration in that progressively higher and
more complex combination of movements which is traced by
such writers as Dr. Hughlings Jackson to a progressively
higher representation of the motor impulse of the brain. We
have only to suppose the brain to be organised through and
through on the same plan, and we have at once a physio-
logical counterpart of the systematic organisation of the
mind as above described.

CHAPTER VI.

RELATIVE SUGGESTION.

§ I. Unconscious Inference.

Some of our most distinguished modern psychologists have
shown a strong disposition to recognise in the elementary pro-
cesses of perception and association the rudimentary presence
of those mental operations which, in their higher form, we call
reasoning and constructive imagination. Helmholtz, in par-
ticular, has emphasised the inferential or ratiocinative nature
of those judgments of size, shape, and distance which form
essential constituents of our visual perception of space. In
such perceptions we have, according to him, an analogue of
the syllogism. The major premiss is the cumulative result
of a series of experiences which in their particularity have
vanished from memory. The new sense-impression which
emerges in the present perception forms the minor, to which
the rule registered by previous observation is applied. This
psychical process he holds to be operative from the lowest to
the highest stages in the development of our mental life. ^
James criticises this view as follows : "If, every time a
present sign suggests an absent reality to our mind, we make
an inference ; and if every time we make an inference we
reason ; then perception is indubitably reasoning. Only one
sees no room in it for any unconscious part. Both associates,
the present sign and the contiguous things which it suggests,

1 Die Thatsachen in der Wahrnehmung, pp. 26-27.
(43)

44 Analytic Psychology.

are above-board, and no intermediary ideas are required."^
" Our rapid judgment of size, shape, distance, and the like, are
best explained as processes of simple cerebral association.
Certain sense-impressions directly stimulate brain-tracts, of
whose activity ready-made conscious percepts are the imme-
diate psychic counterparts." ^ Now, it may be admitted that
this criticism is justified as against any attempt to find a
formal parallel between the process of perception and a logical
schema such as that of the syllogism. The absence of the
major premiss is sufificient to vitiate the supposed analogy.
But the major premiss is absent, as such ; it is certainly
not present for consciousness ; and the assumption of Von
Hartmann that it has an unconscious existence is at any
rate devoid of all psychological justification, however we may
regard it from a metaphysical point of view. It does not,
however, follow that the perceptual processes which Helmholtz
has in view are fully and accurately characterised as " simple
cerebral associations ". What is questionable in this formula is
the word " simple". If this means that the working of associa-
tion in perceptual process is merely reproductive, the state-
ment of James covers a fallacy. Psychologists in genera
show a tendency to ignore the constructive aspect of mental
process in its lower phases. They recognise mental pro-
ductiveness only in complex and advanced stages of develop-
ment. Thus in Bain's Senses and Intellect, out of the 306
pages devoted to the intellect, only the last 42 deal directly
with what he calls " Constructive Association". Throughout
the whole of the preceding 264 pages he has in view " the
literal resuscitation, revival, or reinstatement of former
actions, images, emotions, and trains of thought ". This pro-
cedure appears to be founded on a false view of the nature
both of association and of construction,

^ Psychology, vol. ii., pp. 111-112.
' Ibid., vol. i., p. 169.

Relative Suggestion. 45

§ 2. Mental Productiveness in General (i).

The ultimate root of Professor Bain's fallacy has been laid
bare by Mr. Bradley. It lies in the tacit assumption that
association is a link between particulars, as such. On this
view, when the sight of a particular piece of sugar suggests
sweet taste, what happens is as follows. In the past we have
experienced a particular sweet taste in connection with the
particular visual appearances of particular bits of sugar. When
now I see a new bit of sugar, the association which revives the
sweetness is that between the preceding particular past ex-
periences, as such. Hence it is assumed by Bain that the
piece now seen must first reproduce the particular visual
appearance of past pieces before it can resuscitate the sweet-
ness ; and also that the sweetness actually revived is a
particular sweetness which has been previously experienced.
It is obvious that in this process there is absolutely no room
for mental construction. The process is essentially one of
literal resuscitation. If there is any novelty in the new pro-
duct it is the result of accident due to obliviscence, etc. But
the process as described is a sheer impossibility and absurdity.
The only particular which is actually operative is the given
particular. It is this special piece of sugar as seen by me at
this special moment which recalls the sweet taste. The past
particular experiences of other particular bits of sugar no
longer exist, and therefore cannot operate. If, per inipos-
sibile, they did exist and operate, they would not account for
the actual result. What is suggested is not past particular
experiences of sweetness, but the idea of a new particular
sweetness connected with the present bit of sugar. This sugar
suggests this sweetness. The special conditions included in
the word " this" enter into and modify process and result. If
the sugar seen is beyond my reach, then the sweetness
suggested is a sweetness beyond my reach, although in all my

46 Analytic Psychology.

past experiences the sugar may have been easily attainable.
If it be a bigger piece of sugar than I have before had
experience of, I anticipate a more extended enjoyment of
its sweetness. ^ To take another example : Mr. Lloyd
Morgan tells a story of a little boy who, " after gazing intently
at a spirited picture of a storm at sea with a ship being struck
by lightning, asked, * Mother, why doesn't it rumble ? ' "
Now, what kind of a rumble was in this case actually sug-
gested to the boy ? Was it anything in the nature of a literal
reproduction of any thunderclap which he had ever heard ?
If he had heard an actual peal of thunder at the moment, this
would not have fitted itself in as a natural complement of the
painted scene. If his mother had told him that painted
lightning could only be accompanied by painted thunder, the
answer would in all probability have appeared to him a satis-
factory one. But the point of it would have lain in the
modification of the process of reproduction by the special
features of the datum from which it starts — special features
which, as such, have never been associated with the idea
suggested. In this case the idea suggested is an absurdity,
but this does not affect the general principle.

As against the particularism of the associationists, Mr.
Bradley lays down the axiom that " Association marries only
Universals ". In other words, the connection which is
operative in the process of revival is not between atomic
particulars as such, but between general elements of content
which they have in common. This principle is inseparably
correlated with another, which requires to be specially em-
phasised in view of our present topic. We can only under-
stand mental construction when we bear in mind that any

1 See F. H. Bradley's Principles of Logic, bk. ii., pt. ii., chap. i.
Readers who are not already familiar with this chapter are par-
ticularly requested to consult it if the above condensed statement
does not appear to them perfectly transparent and evident, and also
important.

Kecative ^auggestion. 47

actual reproduction is the work of the present psychological
datum. The special features of this give a special embodi-
ment to the preformed general connection. Before inquiring
into the manifold modes in which this can take place, we must
investigate some other associationist fallacies, with a view of
bringing into yet clearer light the essential nature of mental
construction.

The fundamental fallacy of the associationists, as exposed
by Mr, Bradley, lies in their bias towards psychological
atomism. Behind this tendency there lies an obstinate dis-
position to explain the nature and existence of a whole ex-
clusive'y by reference to the nature and existence of the
parts which are combined in it. From this point of view the
parts must be supposed to pre-exist before they are combined,
and to pre-exist in such a way that they need only to be in
some undefined manner externally brought together or asso-
ciated in order to constitute the whole which contains them.
Thus, in psychology, if we push this mode of explanation to
its logical limit, we shall find it necessary to assume implicitly
or explicitly a plurality of separate and independent exist-
ences ; which, being shuffled sufficiently, give rise to all
mental combination and composition.

From this primary fallacy there flow three derivative errors,
which go far to vitiate the associationist doctrine of the pro-
ductive aspect of mental process. The first of these is the
exclusive emphasis which it lays on mere combination. The
novelty of a mental construction is made to consist entirely
in the meeting of elements which have not been conjoined
before. Thus Bain says : " The new combinations grow out
of elements already possessed by the mind, and brought to
view according to the laws already laid down ".^ These laws
are the laws of " literal resuscitation, revival, or reinstate-
ment". ^ As against this view we advance the counter-pro-

* Bain's Senses and Intellect, 4th ed., p. 606. ^ Ibid., p. 605

48 Analytic Psychology.

position that every new synthesis results from the further de-
termination of a psychical whole which in some way already
pre-exists. The new synthesis consists in the distinction and
definition of the parts and relations within this prior whole.
To regard it purely and exclusively as a synthesis involves no
less an error than to regard it purely and exclusively as an
analysis. It is like the shuffling of a pack of cards ; the various
combinations which take place presuppose the general and
relatively indeterminate combination, in virtue of which the
cards constitute a pack at all.

In the second place, there is a complete failure on the part
of the associationists to recognise the apprehension of a form
of combination as a distinct psychical element. The presented
whole is for them simply the sum of its presented components.
If the atomistic bias in psychology were followed up with full
logical rigour, it would lead to the conclusion that if each one
of a number of different persons had cognisance of an isolated
part of a building, they would collectively cognise the build-
ing as a whole. Against any view pointing in this direction,
we urge the result which we have already at great length ex-
plained and defended : the presentation of a form of synthesis
is as distinct from the presentation of the elements combined
considered apart from their union, as the presentation of red is
distinct from the presentation of green.

Finally, the associationist has a strong disposition to regard
mental elements as entering into new combinations, without
themselves undergoing transformation in the process. This
never is and never can be true. Elements which enter into a
new whole, receive new qualifications from their relations
within this whole ; and they must often suffer considerable
preliminary modification, in order to make them capable of
entering into these relations. The whist-player needs not
be told that in every fresh deal the several cards become
qualified by their relations within the new whole. To fit in

Relative Suggestion. 49

to the design and plan of a building the stones must be hewn
into shape.

§ 3. Mental Productiveness in General (2).

These illustrations are, of course, mere illustrative meta-
phors, not examples. Abundant exemplification will be
found throughout the remainder of this chapter. But our
special topic is not mental construction in the widest sense,
but rather constructive suggestion as a productive aspect of
associative revival. We shall here, therefore, give preliminary-
exemplification in a case where the part played by association
is comparatively inconspicuous, because the elements com-
bined appear to be supplied from without by sense-perception,
not reproduced from within by association.

The following is a case of the sort, as stated from the
associationist point of view : " Suppose," says Mill, " that a
phenomenon consists of parts, and that these parts are only
capable of being observed separately, and as it were piece-
meal. When the observations have been made, there is a
convenience (amounting for many purposes to a necessity) in
obtaining a representation of the phenomenon as a whole by
combining, or as we may say piecing, these detached frag-
ments together. A navigator sailing in the midst of the ocean
discovers land : he cannot at first, or by any one observation,
determine whether it is a continent or an island ; but he coasts
along it, and after a few days finds himself to have sailed
completely round it ; he then pronounces it an island. . .
Did he infer anything that had not been observed from some-
thing else that had? Certainly not. . . . That the land in
question is an island is not an inference from the partial facts
which the navigator saw in the course of his circumnaviga-
tion ; it is the facts themselves." ^

* Logic^ gth ed., vol. i., p. 338
VOL. II. 4

50 Analytic Psychology.

In this statement there is an exclusive emphasis on mere
combination ; the process is a piecing together of detached
fragments. The whole which results is described as a mere
external juxtaposition of what had previously been given
piecemeal. " That the land in question is an island ... is
the facts themselves ; it is a summary of those facts." ^
Further, there is no indication that the detached fragments in
any way alter their character in becoming components of the
complex fact. They are taken together instead of being taken
separately; but their juxtaposition makes no difference to
them. They acquire no new relations : for nothing is inferred
" that had not been observed from something else that
had ". Now, all these assumptions are uncritical and
erroneous. In the first place, the parts to be put together
are not initially apprehended in pure isolation from each
other. The navigator starts by considering them under a
certain point of view ; if he does not think of them as
part of an island, he at least thinks of them as part of a
coast-line. The process of piecing them together is only
possible because it is also a process whereby this relatively
vague and indeterminate unity which is implied in his
initial point of view receives progressive determination in
detail. It follows from this that the whole which results
cannot accurately be described as a mere summary or external
juxtaposition of the partial observations. It is the specific
determination of a certain kind of whole which has been
present to the navigator's mind from the outset. The form of
combination involved can be represented when the special
features given in each particular observation are obliterated :
as when the coast-line is laid down on a map. This becomes
still more evident when we consider the third point. It is
untrue that nothing is inferred, or at least made inferable,

* Logic, gth ed., vol. i., p. 338.

Relative Suggestion. 51

which had not been inferred before. The union of the
" fragments " in a presented whole brings to light innumerable
new relations before unseen. When the coast-line is known
to be that of an island, we know that by starting from any
part of it and walking inland in a given direction we shall
reach the sea ; further, when the outline of the coast as a
whole has once been fixed, the relation of any part on it to
any other part or parts whatever, and of each to all col-
lectively, has been implicitly determined. Nothing but
analytic attention is needed to ascertain these new relations
which are involved in the form of the whole. Of course this
analysis is also a synthesis. In selecting special points of
the spatial whole, and considering them in relation to each
other, we construct new combinations, and each of these
involves new inferences. In determining the relation of ^ to
B, and B to C, we determine the relation of A to C. Thus
the discovery of the shape of the coast-line which the circum-
navigator makes involves a concentrated infinity of inferences.
We shall revert later to the relation of inference to mental
construction.

What has been said of the circumnavigator's discovery holds
good, mutatis mutandis, of the example which formed the
main bone of contention between Mill and Whewell, — Kepler's
discovery of the orbit of Mars. Kepler started with the pre-
sumption that the planet described some regular curve in its
course: the nature of this curve became defined through suc-
cessive observations of the special positions which the planet
successively occupied. In one point, however, this example
differs from that of the island. It clearly involves not merely
construction, but constructive reproduction. The path of the
planet between the observed points had to be mentally
supplied by Kepler, in accordance with analogy, A process
of this kind is what I propose to call Relative Suggestion, a
term adapted from Thomas Brown. It may manifest itself in

52 Analytic Psychology.

the most 'multiform way. In the next section we shall dis-
tinguish some of its principal modes. We shall then proceed
to show how it pervades primitive phases of mental life. We
shall afterwards make special reference to the part it plays in
artistic construction and in inference, formal and informal.

§ 4. Types and Examples of Relative Suggestion.

"Association marries only Universals." It depends on a
general connection, but its specific working in each case is
conditioned by the specific and relatively new nature of the
present psychological datum in which the process of reproduc-
tion has its starting point. The most general formula for it
is : If the presented content b has formed part of a preseyited
whole be, then the presented content /3, tvhen it recurs^ will tend
to call up a whole ^<y formally corresponding to be. But the
simplicity of this ultimate principle may be complicated in
endless ways. The yS which corresponds to b may be a
simple modification of b, as a lighter grey is a modification
of a darker grey ; or again, it may involve the relation of b
to a new context, and it may happen that the constituents of
this new context have associations of their own, which con-
tribute to determine the productive-reproductive process. The
following types and specimens are not put forward as by any
means exhausting the varieties of Relative Suggestion. They
are only intended to indicate the general nature of the pos-
sible variations.

(i) We may first consider a class of cases which approaches
most nearly to the process of construction without constructive
suggestion which we have examined in the last section. A
B, and C have severally associates of their own ; but they are
for the first time brought into combination, so as to form the
whole ABC. Their associates are thereby brought into cor-
responding combination, so as to form a new whole. What

Relative Suggestion. 53

is especially to be noted in such instances is that the asso-
ciated presentations suffer transformation by being brought
into their new connection. A good example is supplied by
the use of language. Each word suggests its appropriate
meaning, and new combinations of words suggest new com-
binations of meaning. But the meaning of the several words
fluctuates with the context. Except in the case of terms
scientifically defined, words have no rigid and unalterable
signification. This is, perhaps, most obvious in the case of
metaphorical extensions of meaning. Consider the variations
in the import of the word " home " in the following sentences :
"I am going home" — this may mean something different
according as I say it on my death-bed or to a friend in the
street ; " He drove his weapon home " ; " Cromwell drove home
his argument against the Pope with English cannon " ; " The
business of the philosopher is to make himself intellectually
at home in the universe " ; "A home team " ; "A house is
not a home"; "Heaven is our home"; "Home-keeping
youth have ever homely wits " ; "A homely face ". This is
of course an illustration taken at random ; innumerable other
words are equally variable. There is a certain common ele-
ment pervading their manifold occasional meanings ; but this
common element is an abstraction. In each concrete applica-
tion of the term its import is specified by the connection in
which it occurs ; so that even a strikingly novel use of it may
be instantly intelligible. Let W stand for the word, and M
for its meaning ; we have a series M-^ M^ M^, etc., of special
significations : Wis not of itself associated with any of these
to the exclusion of the others, and it frequently calls up a
modification of M, with which it has never been associated at
all. The special modification of M which emerges on any
particular occasion is dependent on context and circumstances,
which we may denote by C. C of course may vary indefinitelyi
yielding a series C^ C^ (7g, etc. Thus if W + C^ calls up J/,,

54 Analytic Psychology.

W A- C W A- r
JV+ C, will call up M^, and ^ "■ = J^ ^^ - Of course

these formulae are meant only as a device to make the general
conception clear ; it is not implied that it can be worked out
with anything approaching to mathematical precision.

(2) The second group of instances is that in which a certain
kind of series is given, and we mentally supply, in accordance
with the law of the series, terms in it which are not given.
There is an interesting allusion to this mode of Relative Sug-
gestion in Hume. " Suppose a person to have enjoyed his
sight for thirty years, and to have become perfectly well
acquainted with colours of all kinds, excepting one particular
shade of blue, for instance, which it has never been his fortune
to meet with. Let all the different shades of that colour,
except that single one, be placed before him, descending
gradually from the deepest to the lightest ; 'tis plain, that he
will perceive a blank, where that shade is wanting, and will
be sensible that there is a greater distance in that place be-
twixt the contiguous colours, than in any other. Now I ask,
whether 'tis possible for him, from his own imagination, to
supply this deficiency, and raise up to himself the idea of
that particular shade, tho' it had never been conveyed to him
by his senses ? I believe there are few but will be of opinion
that he can ; and this may serve as a proof that the simple
ideas are not always derived from the correspondent impres-
sions, tho' the instance is so particular and singular, that 'tis
scarce worth our observing."^ The general problem which
Hume is here discussing, is whether the mind can make to
itself a new simple idea. This question may fairly be re-
garded as out of date, and does not concern us here. If we
rigorously press the notion of simplicity, a simple idea is a pre-
sented content which has absolutely nothing in common with
any other presented content. The mind cannot make such an

1 Hume's Human Nature, ed. Green and Grose, vol. i., pp. 315-316.

Relative Suggestion. 55

idea, because such an idea is an intrinsic impossibility. But
the special question concerning the filling in of the absent
terms of a series, such as that of the gradations in the depth
of a colour, is the very question which we are here raising ;
and we cannot do better than begin by considering Hume's
example.

It is plain, as Hume says, that the person in the case which
he supposes " will perceive a blank "^ where the shade is want-
ing. Now this in itself involves relative suggestion, whether
he actually succeeds in recalling the right shade or not. The
idea of something qualified by quite specific and definite re-
lations within the series is called up. The case is analogous to
that in which on seeing a person we try to recall his name,
and fail. There is a reproductive process which is not com-
pleted. In the next place, it must be noted that for our
purpose the question whether the person has had actual ex-
perience of this particular shade of colour before, is irrelevant.
By hypothesis, it is not the associations which it has acquired
in our previous experience of it, which now recall it. What is
really operative is the form of the series. Represent this
series by B^ B^^ B.^ B^ B^. B^ and B^ suggest B-, not because
they have been previously associated with B^, but because
B^: B^ : : B^: B^, and B^ : B^ : : Bq : B^ Besides this, when
B^ is recalled, it is not just the same in nature as when it pre-
viously appeared in a different context. In being transplanted,
it becomes transmuted. It now appears as a gradation in a
series of gradations, and the attributes which belong to it as
part of this series may be more important and interesting
than any which it previously possessed. The process of sug-
gestion may of course be greatly facilitated by prior ex-
perience of B^ ; but on the other hand it may not. All
depends upon the attention we have paid to it and the fre-

^ Of course we suppose the threshold of " differential sensibility " to
be exceeded.

56 Analytic Psychology.

quency of its repetition. It may be that in past experience it
has acquired no associations which of themselves would suffice
to revive it, and yet it may be revivable as part of the colour
series. In this case previous experience would count as quite
a subordinate factor in the result. The question of fact re-
mains : Are we able thus to supply a missing gradation of
colour depth ? Personally, I find that I do so with pains and
difficulty, and with only an imperfect result. But my general
power of imaging colours is deficient. A good colour visualiser
would, I presume, find no such difficulty. It seems to be a
suitable problem for statistical experiment. I find that my
power of filling in intermediate gradations is much greater
for degrees of loudness in sound, or of muscular effort. It
approaches something like accuracy for geometrical images.
Given a series of lines, varying in length according to a cer-
tain easily discernible ratio, and I can mentally continue the
series, or fill in links where it is discontinuous, with what
appears to me to be approximate correctness. Similarly
with a series of curves of different degrees of curvature. Of
course the essential point is that we can make the attempt,
and that the result follows from our sense of proportion, and
not from any irrelevant association. So far as this is the case,
we are mentally productive, though we may be in error.
There are, however, cases in which full accuracy is possible.
Thus we can continue a simple numerical series, such as 3, 5,
7, 9 ; or I, Y, \, I, with facility and accuracy by mere relative
suggestion, until the terms become so large that they require
to be calculated according to a formal rule of operation. The
continuance of such a series is not analogous to the repetition
of the letters of the alphabet. In repeating the alphabet, we
depend wholly on association between the preceding and the
succeeding letters. In continuing the numerical series, the
clue which guides us is the general nature of the serial
transition.

Relative Suggestion. 57

(3) In another and very important type of relative sugges-
tion, the mental production consists in supplying terms in
one series corresponding to terms in a parallel series. It is
exemplified in all reduction or enlargement of the scale of a
whole, while the proportion of its parts is maintained. This is
an operation which we are constantly performing. It is the
mental construction which precedes and makes possible all
graphic representation on paper of large objects ; all plans of
the disposition of a battle, and so forth. In general our
mental representations of space-relations are in miniature.
Reduction of scale of another kind is to be found in the child's
dealings with its doll. The diminutive waxen baby must
have all its belongings diminished in a corresponding ratio.
A very clear instance of this third class of relative suggestions
is supplied by the singing or mental repetition of a tune in a
different key from that in which it has been previously heard.
The absolute pitch of the note is determined by the keynote,
which may vary. The identity of the tune is preserved by
correspondence in the transitions between the notes. In these
instances, which might be indefinitely multiplied, the terms of
the one series for which a parallel is supplied in the other
need not be actually presented. The preformed associative
connection specialises itself in the new material without any
distinct reference to its previous embodiment. This is not so
in another set of instances which come under the present
heading. As typical of these, we may take the work of the
painter or draughtsman. In passing from actual scenery
to the coloured picture, and from the coloured picture to its
reproduction in black and white, there is a " transposition of
values " delicately adjusted, so that the values may as far as
possible preserve their relation to each other. We may
consider specially the representation of gradations of colour
depth by corresponding gradations of grey. Ruskin, in his
Elements of Drawing, after giving the beginner directions for

58 Analytic Psychology.

forming by a mechanical method black and white series corre-
sponding to certain colour series, proceeds to point out that
the special correspondences thus brought to light are useless
in actual practice. " For it would never be possible for you to
gradate your scales so truly as to make them perfectly
accurate and serviceable ; and even if you could, unless you
had about ten thousand scales, and were able to change them
faster then ever juggler changed cards, you could not in a day
measure the tints on so much as one side of a frost-bitten
apple : but when once you fully understand the principle, and
see how all colours contain as it were a certain quantity of
darkness, or power of dark relief from white — some more,
some less ; and how this pitch or power of each may be repre-
sented by equivalent values of grey, you will soon be able to
arrive shrewdly at an approximation by a glance of the eye,
without any measuring scale at all." ^

(4) All the above examples may be regarded as conditioned
by the transference of a pre-existing form of combination to
new matter. In other instances the converse aspect of the
case is more conspicuous. The striking point is that pre-
existing matter is brought into a new combination. Thus, to
take a simple case, we may have carefully considered the
pictures in a collection in the way of comparing their aesthetic
merits : but we may never have thought of counting them.
The counting of them involves a general transformation of
the given material. Certain aspects of it are now ignored as
irrelevant, and other aspects, previously ignored, are brought
into prominence. A work of art becomes a unit in a
numerical series. At the same time the preformed associa-
tions are still operative in the new process. The counting is
possible because we have already considered the pictures
in their aesthetic relations. The important point is that the

» Elements of Drawing, pp. 43-44.

Relative Suggestion. 59

working of these associations is transformed by the new-
point of view ; they suggest numerical rather than aesthetic
jelations.

(5) There is another group, more or less cognate with the
last, in which one point of view does not merely supplant
another, but blends with it, and co-operates with it in con-
trolling the course of relative suggestion. Poetic composition
is a good example. Here, as Bain notes, there are a number
of distinct conditions to be satisfied. In all literary composi-
tion, " besides conveying a meaning, certain grammatical forms
have to be observed ; likewise, there are rhetorical properties
or rules of good taste ; a certain melody or cadence is sought
to be imparted ; and, in poetic composition, the other qualities
have to be attained under the restrictions of metre and
rhyme ".^ It must be added to this that both sound and sense
must yield a unity of aesthetic effect. This is the most com-
prehensive form of combination, which includes the others as
its parts, and realises itself by means of them.

Each of these conditions of verbal combination is a form
which is being continually transferred to new matter. Thus
each taken singly, apart from its relation to the others, would
give rise to trains of relative suggestion. The forms of con-
struction by which relationships are indicated, including the
distinction of the parts of speech, inflection, and syntactical
rules, constitute a comprehensive thought-schema, which per-
vades and controls the whole connection of our ideas, so far as
they find expression in language. In every moment of our
intellectual life we are filling in this schema with new
material ; in every moment we are constructing sentences and,
eo ipso, corresponding ideal combinations, which are built up
in accordance with formal analogy, not through previous
association between the actual words which enter into their

* Senses and Intellect, 4th ed., p. 6to.

6o Analytic Psychology.

composition. Similarly, metrical form is a constant source of
relative suggestion. In verse composition words do not
suggest each other merely because they have been previously
combined, but because a metrical relation is to be fulfilled.
Now, when grammatical forms and metrical forms are to be
combined so as to produce unity of aesthetic effect in a given
subject-matter, the course of suggestion is simultaneously
controlled by all these conditions.

Bain gives a different and, as it seems to me, a quite unten-
able account of the matter. He represents the whole process
as one of trial and error. " It is not enough that I can com-
bine one form of words sufficient to express a certain meaning ;
I must be able from my verbal resources, recovered from the
past, to construct several forms all equally good as regards
meaning, so that I may be able to choose the one that satisfies
the other conditions as well. In fact, the mind must possess,
not one way of bringing out a certain effect, but a plurality of
ways ; and, out of this plurality, we fix upon the form that
yields some second effect also desired. If a third effect is
wanted, there must be a power of altering the combination
already made without losing the previous effects, and for this
end we must be able to command a choice of equivalent
phrases in the room of those that are discordant as regards the
new end." ^ The whole conception of constructive combina-
tion, as consisting in trial and error, and in selection from a
throng of suggested ideas which crowd in upon the mind
merely owing to their conjunction in previous experience, is
vicious. The process of suggestion itself must be selective.
As Brentano remarks : " If we compare the number of all pos-
sible combinations of tones in their manifold variety as regards
pitch and intensity and timbre, with the number of tone-
combinations which yield an aesthetic effect, we shall see that

* Senses and Intellect, 4th ed., p. 6io.

Relative Suggestion. 6i

mere abundance and liveliness of imagery is inadequate to
explain the facility with which a Mozart or a Schubert com-
poses music ".^ Such words as inspiration would have no
kind of meaning if Bain were right. A process of patient and
laborious sifting and rejecting is exactly the characteristic
which is conspicuous by its absence in the mental construction
of the man of genius. Pope says : " I lisped in numbers, for
the numbers came," and yet no man spent more time and
pains than Pope in polishing and correcting his work. But if
the working of his mind had been such as Dr. Bain describes,
he never would have written anything worth correcting or
polishing. The notion that Shakespeare first of all tried to
express his meaning, and then sought for metre, and then for
a satisfactory cadence, and then for unity of aesthetic effect ;
and that under each of these heads he went through a
laborious process of sifting and selection ; and that finally by
these means the Venus and Adonis and the Midsummer
Nighfs Dream came into being, is a transparent absurdity if
ever there was one. It would have taken him a century to
write ten lines, and then he would not have succeeded on this
plan. The nearest approach, perhaps, to the mental attitude
Bain describes is that of the school-boy who is beginning to
do Latin verse and has no turn for it. One insuperable diffi-
culty in the way of the view I am here opposing is that it
destroys the unity of the process. This unity depends on the
unity of aesthetic effect which is aimed at. The aesthetic effect
is conjointly conditioned by metre, cadence, meaning, and
grammatical structure, and it must be lost if these clues are
followed in isolation from each other. Perhaps this is the
reason why Dr. Bain omitted to notice unity of aesthetic effect
at all as one of the conditions to be fulfilled. But, if this be
neglected, a poem or any other work of art is Hamlet with the
Prince of Denmark missed out.

^ Das Genie, p. 26.

62 Analytic Psychology.

Of course I do not deny that there is much trial and error
in most trains of relative suggestion. The exigencies of
exposition have perhaps led me to represent the operation of
this principle in a diagrammatic way, which may lead to mis-
understanding. yS does not always call up a 7 corresponding
to c, precisely as /3 corresponds to b. This is only the ideal
case of relative suggestion. In general it is truer to say
that /3 tends to call up 7, and that, in fact, it for the most
part does so more or less imperfectly. So far as this imperfec-
tion extends intellectual ends can only be attained by a pro-
cess of repeated trial and failure. But, as Von Hartmann
says : " Even in those cases where experience shows a repeated
rejection of revived ideas, it should not be forgotten that all
these rejected ideas are by no means absolutely fortuitous
in respect of the particular object, but always tend to this
goal, although they may not hit the nail upon the head ".*
Thus, in any process of mental construction, the efficacy of
relative suggestion is in inverse proportion to the amount of
tentative groping. Its perfection depends partly on the
familiarity attained in previous practice, with the special kind
of relation involved, and partly on the degree of mental excite-
ment in respect to the subject-matter at the moment. The
facility of genius consists in the right idea arising at the right
time, without previous effort, hesitation, or failure. Where the
transitions are so immediate they take place without being
specially attended to, and so may be called automatic. This
is a large part of what is meant by the " inspiration " of
genius. Of course when the transitions dependent on relative
suggestion are thus automatic, the constructive process as a
whole may, and in the case of a work of genius must, be the
extreme opposite of automatic. Mozart is a favourite example
of the automatism of genius, but the process of composition

* Philosophy of the Unconscious, vol. i., chap, vii., p. 302.

Relative Suggestion. 6

o

with Mozart involved a consciousness more intense, vivid, and
concentrated than is easily conceivable by ordinary mortals.

(6) The last set of instances to which I shall draw attention
differ widely in nature from the preceding ; none the less they
can be brought under the same principle. I refer to inferences
through a middle term. Of course I have nothing to do with
these inferences in their logical aspect. I am only concerned
with the process of suggestion through which the mental con-
struction on which they depend takes place. It will be well to
begin with an example. Suppose that in a pedestrian excur-
sion I have lost my way. It happens that I catch sight of
some landmark which is known to me to be situated at a
certain definite position and distance from my destination. I
then know where I am, what course to take, and how far I
have to go to reach my journey's end. Now, here there
has been a preformed association between the landmark which
guides me and the place which I wish to reach. The land-
mark, therefore, recalls the place as in a certain relation to
itself This relation is one of position and distance, because
my mind is initially occupied with the spatial relations of the
objects in the region surrounding me. Nor is this all. My
mind is preoccupied from the outset with my present position ;
and when I see the landmark I think of it in relation to this.
Hence, when the sight of the landmark suggests the relative
position of the place I wish to reach, the course of suggestion
is so conditioned by my mental attitude that the resulting
ideal whole is one in which my present position, the land-
mark, and my destination are combined in definite relations to
each other. Of course, such trains of suggestion may have a
different order according to circumstances. In the present
instance the middle term is given, and the third term is
suggested. In other cases the middle term itself may not be
given, but mentally recalled. The formula for this second
class of instances, which is substantially similar to the first.

64 Analytic Psychology.

may be stated as follows : A, B, and C are all by their nature
constituents belonging to a spatial, quantitative, or other kind of
whole or series, W. A has been apprehended in a certain re-
lation to B within this whole, and recalls B so as to present it
in this relation. C also has been apprehended in a certain
relation to B, and so tends to recall A in this relation. A and
C are now both apprehended as having some relation within
the same formal system. They conjointly call up a B ; but
this B is not the same as each of them would recall separately.
It is qualified by its joint relation to A and C, and it is appre-
hended as a link of connection between them, so that the three
constitute a specific kind of whole, W^, within the original whole,
W. On the emergence of this new combination the relation
between A and C itself becomes transformed. As constitutive
of W^, it receives a specification which did not initially belong
to it when it was merely apprehended as some relation within
the relatively indeterminate W. Thus in apprehending two
quantities as equal to the same quantity, we apprehend them
as equal to each other.

In the web of our concrete psychical life, these various
modes of relative suggestion are intimately interwoven with
each other in the most complicated way ; and our attempt to
disentangle them involves artificial abstraction. There is,
however, considerable simplification in the case of sense-per-
ception and the comparatively simple processes connected with
it. Here the most prominent and important form of con-
struction is the third to which we have alluded ; in which a
form of connection remaining relatively the same, variation in
one of the terms suggests corresponding variation in the
others.

It may be questioned whether there are any clear instances
of absolutely simple, as opposed to relative, suggestion. Per-
haps the nearest approach to it is to be found in the mere
repetition of what has been learned by rote. Thus, in repeat-

Relative Suggestion. 65

ing the alphabet, it would seem that we merely reproduce it
without any kind of modification due to relative suggestion
But even in this case it would be rash to say that such modi-
fication is absolutely excluded. We may repeat the alphabet
in various ways, with different rates of rapidity, with different
degrees of distinctness, loudness and emphasis, and with dif-
ferences of rhythmic grouping. Other things being equal, the
mode in which we go on with our repetition will be conditioned
by the mode in which we start. But this is a rudimentary
stage of relative suggestion. An analogous case in which the
relativity is sharply and distinctly marked, is the singing of
the same tune in different keys. The absolute pitch of the
note is determined by the keynote, which may vary. The
identity of the tune is preserved by correspondence in the
relations of the notes.

§ 5. Relative Suggestion in Perceptual
Process.
The Suggestion with which we are concerned under this
head, is that by which the transition from a given sense-
impression or impressions to the corresponding percepts, takes
place. Our aim is to show that this process is constructive,
and not merely reproductive, or, in other words, that it in-
volves free adaptation to varying conditions which have not
been adequately provided for in advance by specially pre-
formed particular associations. Consider first our apprehen-
sion of the position of objects by means of touch. The
position of objects is fixed by us in relation to the varying
position of the tactile surface with which they come in con-
tact. But the number and complexity of such variations is
immense. Consider the single case of the finger-tips. These,
as Lotze notes, are capable of being put into the most varied
relative positions by means of the finger-joints, each of which

by itself and apart from the others can move its tip through a

VOL. II. 5

66 Analytic Psychology.

semicircle. " This marvellous system of sensitive surfaces
is finally extended freely into all directions of space by the
bendings and extensions of the wrist and elbow, and the still
more unlimited mobility of the upper arm."^ Now, the ques-
tion is whether each several variation of this kind has been
provided for by a particular association, which has become by
repetition or otherwise so firmly fixed that it operates with
automatic rapidity, ease, and precision. Is it not a much more
probable explanation, that we have here a constructive pro-
cess, depending on relative suggestion, and analogous to that
which pervades higher phases of our mental life ? Before the
reader decides this question negatively or doubtfully, he is
invited to consider each and all of the cases which are brought
forward in this section. He will then, I hope, come to the
conclusion that the explanation here advocated is, if not the
only possible one, at least distinctly preferable to that which
relies on simple suggestion. Another illustration drawn from
tactual and motor experience is furnished by the indirect
contact on which all use of implements depends. This is a
topic on which Lotze loves to dwell, and we refer to him for a
fuller discussion of it than can be given here. If we grasp a rod
at one end, or balance it on the finger-tip, we at once perceive
the length or height. So " if a ball is suspended by a thread
from our hand, . . . and if we set it in circular motion, so that
the thread exerts pressure with varying degrees of tension and
velocity on different parts of the hand's surface in a regular
sequence, we now imagine that we are directly aware of the
length of the interval at which the ball is revolving, as well as
of the radius of its rotating circle, and of the velocity and
weight with which it moves in the circumference of this
circle ".- So, if with the finger we firmly press upwards on the
bottom of a hollow vessel, we become aware of any contact

^ Lotze, Microcosmus, Engl, trans., vol. i., pp. 586-587.
''Ibid., p. 588.

Relative Suggestion. 67

with the vessel, of the distance and direction of the impact,
and of the hardness and elasticity of the material. The blind
man's stick, the surgeon's probe, the pen of the clerk, and the
brush of the painter, are only of use because the delicate varia-
tions of pressure and resistance at the point of contact with
the hand, reveal from moment to moment the nature of the
material they operate on, and of their action on this material,
as well as the slight bendings which they themselves undergo.
Any one who has realised the infinite complexity, delicacy, and
variety of these and similar suggestions, will scarcely be per-
suaded that each fine particular variation has its own equally
particular preformed association. The only explanation which
can cover the facts without the most violent straining, is that
which assumes a constructive process. General principles of
combination particularise themselves according to the par-
ticular occasion.

Turning from touch to sight, we may first draw attention to
our judgment of the proper or local colour of a body through-
out the changes which it undergoes under changing illumina-
tions. This is a point on which Helmholtz has laid special
emphasis. Unfortunately, however, he has extended its scope
beyond due limits, and has included under it phenomena which
ought rather to be referred to physiological contrast. But
when every allowance for such contrast is made, it remains
true that a vast variety of transient changes in the colour of
objects which the artist would have to note and imitate in
order to give a true representation of them, are commonly
ignored, as such, by the ordinary percipient, and unconsciously
interpreted as appearances of the real and abiding colours of
the objects seen. We abstract this colour from its variations,
so that, as Delboeuf observes, ** when we see the object re-
flected by a mahogany table, we see it in what we call its true
colours and not suffused with the brown tints of the table '7
^ La Psychologic cotnme science naturelle, p. 6i (quoted by Lewes).

68 Analytic Psychology.

Every painter represents a white object in shadow by means
of grey pigment, and, if he has correctly imitated nature, it
appears pure white. To realise the full complexity of the
case, we must remember how many factors are involved in
determining the light-sensation produced by an object. Be-
sides local colour, there is the colour reflected on to it by
other objects, the intensity of the illumination, which in full
moonlight is 1 50,000 times less than in sunlight, the colour of
illumination, — which differs, for instance, in daylight and
in candlelight, — the light and dark produced by local colour,
and the light and dark produced by illumination. What we
call shadows are really lighted by complex reflected lights,
which may be tinted in the most various ways. All these
delicate, complex, and shifting variations are for the most part
unnoted by the ordinary observer ; and yet they contribute in
the most subtle way to determine his perception of objects.
Although he fails to note them himself, he may readily recog-
nise that a picture which ignores them is a bad imitation of
nature. It is needless to point out how difficult it is to refer
to simple association all this fine adjustment, this fine allow-
ance for evanescent changes, and abstraction of the permanent
fact from the accidental appearance. ^

Perhaps, however, the most remarkable examples of con-
structive process in perception are those supplied by the
perceptions of depth, distance, and solidity. The per-
ception of distance has its starting-point in sensory impres-
sions which are not themselves distinguished and identified.

^ Ruskin says: " Having once come to conclusions touching the sig-
nification of certain colours, we always suppose that we see what we
only know, and have hardly any consciousness of the real aspect of the
signs we have learned to interpret. Very few people have any idea
that sunlighted grass is yellow " {Elements of Drawing, p. 7). The pre-
vious process of "coming to conclusions" is mythological; but the
description 01 our present mental attitude is perfectly correct.

Relative Suggestion. 69

These sensory data are of the most various kind. The bin-
ocular perception of the distance of the object which is directly
fixated, depends very largely upon the motor experience ac-
companying the varying convergence of the two eyes. The
amount and direction of change in the motor series carries
with it a corresponding amount and direction of change in the
distance perceived. The point fixated at any moment forms
a centre around which other distances are grouped. The per-
ception of these, in so far as change of the fixation-point does
not come into operation, is, in binocular vision, predominantly
determined by the combination of the dissimilar perspectives
presented to the two eyes. The delicacy and fineness of the
distance discrimination which is thus effected, must be care-
fully noted. Spurious banknotes, as Helmholtz observes, are
detected by putting a suspected one in a stereoscope along
with a genuine specimen of the same kind, — so that it is seen
whether all the marks of the combined image appear on the
same plane. Now, add to this delicacy of discrimination its
enormous complexity ; a single glance without appreciable
movement of the eye will group innumerable points in their
relative distances from the observer and from each other.
Only the desire to support a preconceived theory could lead
any one to attempt to explain this by separate association
between each particular distance and each particular difference
in the relative position of the images in the retinas of the two
eyes. What takes place is construction according to a general
principle of co-variation. Variation in the retinal experience
carries with it a variation in the distance-perception corre-
sponding to it in kind and degree.

The conditions of distance-perception so far taken in
account come into play only in the binocular apprehension of
relatively neai objects In the apprehension of remote objects
we depend mainly on the distribution of light and shade, on
the indistinctness of boundary lines and faintness of colouring

70 Analytic Psychology.

which accompany increased distance, and on the known
magnitude of the objects. These are the means of which the
artist avails himself to suggest distance and solid shape. The
subtle effect of the distribution of shading may be seen in the
incessant changes in the details of a mountain front under
changing light. The relation of magnitude and distance con-
stitutes a peculiarly striking case of proportional variation.
When, under artificial conditions, the magnitude of the retinal
image is kept unaltered, while the convergence of the eyes
increases, the object appears proportionately smaller ; and,
conversely, the inclination of the optical axes being un-
changed, increase or diminution of the retinal image yields a
corresponding increase or diminution in the apparent size.
Similarly, when the actual magnitude of an object is known
by previous experience, the extent of the retinal image
measures its distance, and vice versd. In monocular vision
the conditions are the same as for vision of distant objects,
except that there is added the varying adjustment of the lens.
We must note that these factors do not work in isola-
tion, but often co-operate in the most delicate relation to each
other. This consideration alone counts strongly against
explanation by simple suggestion.

Consider, in conclusion, the way in which we identify shapes
under the endless variations and points of view from which
we see them. With change in the point of view, the retinal
image changes. This is true even of such a simple figure as a
rectangular cross. Yet the figure is instantly identified as the
same amid the variety of its sense-appearances. Moreover, in
the case of superficial figures there is another condition on
which the identification depends — the kind of surface to which
it is referred. The retinal image which will give the percep-
tion of a rectangular cross on a flat surface will not do so on a
spherical surface.

The point which we desire to make plain is that the same

Relative Suggestion. 71

constructive process which pervades the higher phases of our
mental life, also pervades those lower phases which are
classed as sense-perceptions. In these it obviously does not
consist merely in the bringing together of elements which
have not been brought together before. On the contrary, its
most prominent feature is the change which the new combina-
tion produces in the elements combined.

One question remains yet to be decided. Can perceptual
construction properly be regarded as unconscious inference?
All depends on our definition of the term inference. If we
define it as a mental construction issuing in a judgment or
belief, then undoubtedly inference is involved in sense-percep-
tion. But it will be generally admitted that this definition is
too wide. We may try to amend it by saying that inference
is a mental construction which both has its point of departure
in a judgment and issues in a judgment. On this view we
should have to refuse the title to merely perceptual process,
however constructive it may be. But the proposed definition,
though not likely to mislead in practice, scarcely seems to
touch the essence of inference. This involves a clear dis-
tinction of reason and consequent, and the apprehension of
their connection. Now, we must here avoid a very plausible
error. The premisses of an inference are not to be identified
with the steps of the psychological process which lead up to it.
The premisses are, strictly speaking, not premisses at all,
except in so far as their relation to the conclusion is discerned.
But this is possible only in so far as mental construction is
already completed. What ultimately compels the inference is
the special nature of the whole which is presented as the result
of the constructive process. It is the nature of this whole
which determines the relation of its parts. We do not infer
that A, being to the right of ^, is also to the right of C, because
B is to the right of C, until A, B, and C appear to the mind
as arranged in a definite spatial order. Nothing short of this

72 Analytic Psychology.

justifies the inference. It follows from this that no merely
psychological analysis, and no statement of general laws of
thought, can yield the specific formulae of actual inference.
These in each case depend upon the nature of the subject
matter. Turning now to the special question under considera-
tion, it seems conceivable that sense-perception might be
properly called an inference, although as a psychological
process it has its starting-point in sensation and not in
judgment. If, as the outcome of the process, the sense-
experiences ceased to be merely sense-experiences, and became
distinguished and identified, and if they were apprehended in
their necessary connection with the resulting percept, the percep-
tion might rightly be called an inference. But in point of fact
this is not so. The percipient does not analyse and identify
the sense-impressions which form the psychological data of
perception. Hence they remain data only from a psycho-
logical, and not from a logical, point of view. It has been the
tardy and difficult task of modern psychology, physiology, and
physics to discriminate as perceptual data such experiences
as those connected with the convergence of the eyes with the
binocular combination of dissimilar perspectives, and so forth.
The percipient, as such, entirely ignores them.

§ 6. Relative Suggestion in Automatic Movement.

In movement we may distinguish two kinds of automatism.
Some motor processes may, in a comparative sense, be re-
garded as purely automatic, inasmuch as they go on while the
attention is directed to disparate topics. Walking is the most
obvious illustration. Bicycling, when it has been thoroughly
learned, is another. The bicyclist may spin along while he is
all the time attending to the scenery or to the talk of his
companion. It is highly improbable that all the varying
adaptations required for this process have been severally and
separately provided for in the process of learning, and each so

Relative Suggestion. 73

fixed by repetition as to be readily available at need. It is
difficult to see how all the changes in the nature of the
ground, and all the possible deviations from equilibrium
which are met by an automatic response, can be thus antici-
pated in detail. Other movements may be described as
relatively automatic. They are automatic parts of a process
which, as a whole, involves concentrated attention. Attention
is engrossed by a series of fluctuating conditions and by the
nature of the end to be attained. But the adaptation of
movements to the perceived conditions takes place in a more
or less automatic way. In so far as this is the case the
question, " How am I to react ? " does not arise. " How," says
Von Hartmann, "does the dog calculate the curve of the
morsel which it catches so cleverly at any distance and at any
angle ? " Of course there is no calculation on the part of the
dog. But there must be something which, for the purpose,
is equivalent to the calculation. Mere reproduction, due to
merely particular association, is not enough. The dog's
reaction must take place according to a general principle
which becomes specialised in its application to the fluctuating
conditions. Mutatis tnutandis the same may be said of all
kinds of motor dexterity. Consider, for instance, the import-
ance which Ruskin attaches to the accurate performance by
the beginner of one or two quite limited and special exercises
in drawing. " Show the camel's-hair, and the colour in it, that
no bending nor blotting are of any use to escape your will :
that the touch and the shade shall finally be right, if it costs
you a year's toil ; and from that hour of corrective conviction,
said camel's-hair will bend itself to your wishes." ^

§ 7. Informal Inference.
We have seen that the perceptual process does not, pro-
perly speaking, involve an inference. For this ideas, as

' Elements of Drawing, pp. 136-37.

74 Analytic Psychology.

distinguished from percepts, are needed. Nevertheless, in-
ferences may connect themselves so closely with a percept
that they seem almost to be integral parts of it. This was in
the mind of Helmholtz when he described perception as
" unbewusstes Denken ". When the import of a complex percept
is translated into mental imagery, there is often an in-
ference. Thus, if we touch an object and then call up
mentally the image of the visual appearance which corre-
sponds to the tactual, we have gone through a mental
construction issuing in a judgment and starting with a
judgment. Moreover, in the presented result, our belief in the
tangible configuration of the thing, and our belief in its visible
configuration, may remain distinct, and the one may be appre-
hended as the ground of the other. Thus all the conditions of a
true inference may be fulfilled. The same holds good when the
visual appearance is given, and we ideally represent the tactual
in accordance with it. In such instances the process is
essentially constructive, for the revived visual image shares the
variation of the tactual datum, and vice versa. Each adapts
itself, so to speak, to the bends and folds of the other.

Again, we may start from the perceived shape of an object
seen from a certain point of view, and then ideally envisage
the series of varying appearances which the same object
would present from different points of view. With suflficient
power of geometrical imagery we may mentally deduce all
these and review them one after the other. Nor is it
necessary that the perspectives which we thus ideally construct
should all have been previously perceived. By the mental
application of cross sections in certain directions we may, as
Helmholtz observes, derive from the original percept mental
views of the object which we have never had in actual
perception.

Such inferences as these are informal. By this 1 mean that
the form of combination which connects their terms comes

Relative Suggestion. 75

before us only as it is embedded in the detail of the particular
case. It is not generalised and explicitly expressed in an
abstract formula. In order to attain such general formulation
of the universal principle which underlies an inference,
systematic comparison of particular cases is necessary. We
shall have a word to say presently on the nature of formal
inference, after having first considered a mode of mental con-
struction which even in its highest phases frequently dispenses
with abstract formulae — the play of constructive imagination.

Nearly all the practical inferences of ordinary life are of the
informal kind. When in practical life I infer that A is to the
right of -5, because B is to the right oi C, A B and C
are quite specific objects. The algebraic generality which
attaches to them in my description of the process as a type of
inference is absent from the mind of the person who makes it.
So the ordinary reasonings which in books on logic are for
the most part chosen as examples of syllogistic form are in
ordinary life performed without any recognition of a major
premiss. Mill has illustrated this in dealing with what he
chooses to call " Reasoning from Particulars to Particulars " ;
and Spencer has urged the same point with great clearness
and cogency. We may here quote one of Mill's examples :
" An old warrior, on a rapid glance at the outlines of the
ground, is able at once to give the necessary orders for a
skilful arrangement of his troops ; though if he has received
little theoretical instruction, and has seldom been called upon
to answer to other people for his conduct, he may never have
had in his mind a single general theorem respecting the
relation between ground and array. But his experience of
encampments, in circumstances more or less similar, has left a
number of vivid, unexpressed, ungeneralised analogies in his
mind, the most appropriate of which, instantly suggesting
tself, determines him to a judicious arrangement." ^
^ Logic, gth ed., vol. i., p. 216.

76 Analytic Psychology.

§ 8. The Play of Imagination.

The play of imagination is treated by Bain under the head
Emotional Constructiveness. The title is appropriate. We
may say that in the play of imagination the mental craving
connected with some mood or emotion calls up and co-
ordinates ideas which harmonise with it, and which gratify it in
so far as it can be gratified merely by receiving definite form
and outline, apart from any change in the world of actuality or
in our beliefs concerning it. Bain very aptly gives as an
example of emotional construction the day-dream of the
crockery-seller in the Arabian Nights. His formal analysis of
this case is, however, not quite satisfactory. He says : " The
owner of the crockery-basket had amassed pictures of happiness
and grandeur which required only to be cast into a consecutive
order to make his epic "} Here we have the old fallacy that
mental production consists merely in putting together ready-
made material. Of course, as Bain's own account of the
matter is sufficient to show, there is more than this involved.
The images brought into consecutive order, so as to gratify the
ruling emotion, are profoundly modified in the process. The
buying and selling, with which the crockery-seller's reverie
started, were not business transactions such as he had ever
had experience of, nor were they remoulded in his mind by a
conscious process of addition and subtraction. They became
spontaneously transformed so as to fit into their places in the
consecutive order.

The most important kind of emotional construction is the
aesthetic. ./Esthetic emotion is marked by a peculiarity — that
it can be satisfied purely by the play of imagination. Its
embodiment in actual works of art only serves as an aid to
emotional construction. Closely connected with this pecu-
liarity is another. ^Esthetic satisfaction is a satisfaction

* Senses and Intellect, 4th ed., p. 641.

Relative Suggestion. 77

derived from the form of combination of the parts of a whole.
The pleasantness of the several elements is, indeed, a con-
tributory factor of the highest importance ; but it has aesthetic
value only in so far as each several source of enjoyment has
its action intensified by this relation to the whole of which it
is part. In combinations of this kind the part played by
relative suggestion is very prominent. We have already dis-
cussed poetic composition. For painting, we may refer to any
art critic who has the power of reflective analysis. The
following quotation from Hamerton will sufficiently serve for
present illustration : " The lightness and darkness of each
object, being relative, must be translated synthetically — that
is, with continual reference to the rest of the picture. When
this is not done the parts may be separately true, yet false
when considered with reference to the whole." ^ " Whether
you will or not, in painting on any one part of your picture
you are really painting upon, that is, changing the colour of,
the whole canvas at once." ^ " Synthesis in form does not
merely arrange given forms, but runs into, and modifies, every
line in the forms themselves. A great inventive artist never
in a picture draws anything exactly as it is, but compels it
into such shapes as he wants in that place, having reference all
the time to all the other shapes either already put, or to be
put, in all the other parts of the picture." ^

In all artistic construction the form of combination which
controls relative suggestion is only apprehended as it is
embodied in a special way in a special material. The
artist, as distinguished from the art critic, never attempts
to describe his ideas in abstract terms. There is, however, one
way in which the creative artist, as such, mentally disengages
the ideal plan of synthesis which guides the flow of his ideas

1 Thoughts about Art, p. 179.
Ibid., p. 180.
• Ibid., pp. 180-81.

7 8 Mental Processes.

from the special matter in which he desires to incorporate it.
This happens when he transfers it from one kind of material
to another kind. This process, which forms a sort of meeting-
point between scientific and artistic method, we shall now
proceed to examine.

§ 9. Relative Suggestion as Related to Suggestion
BY Formal Similarity.

Identity, or correspondence in form of combination, is a
very potent factor in determining suggestion by similarity, A
portrait or a picture suggests its original more because the
relation of its parts is analogous to the relation of the parts
in the original than because of any resemblance in the parts
themselves taken severally. All metaphor depends upon
suggestion of this kind. When Tennyson says, " A doubtful
throne is ice in summer seas," the transition in his mind was
not mediated by any material identity between ice and a
throne, or between a disputed succession and summer seas.
So, too, when Ruskin compares a society undifferentiated by
diversity of individual character to one " in which every soul
would be as the syllable of a stammerer instead of the word
of a speaker," ^ the mental suggestion is a formal one. When
Hobbes says that mental imagery is obscured by sense-
impressions, as the light of the sun obscureth the light of the
stars, and that the vivacity of the mental imagery in dreams is
comparable with the appearance of the stars at night when
the sun has set, the suggestion depends on the correspondence
of relations. It has been said that the result of a well-con-
ducted discussion is to give one a binocular apprehension of
the debated topic by a combination of dissimilar perspectives^
For a comparatively superficial and one-sided view there is
substituted a kind of stereoscopic view. There could not be
a better example of suggestion by formal similarity.
1 Elements of Drawing, p. 166.

Relative Suggestion. 79

Now, the nature and operation of relative suggestion is most
conspicuous when it is preceded and conditioned by formal
suggestions of the kind described. When a metaphor first
flashes upon the poet's mind, the mental transition is due to
suggestion by formal similarity. But he may subsequently
proceed to work out in detail the formal analogy so as to dis-
cover new correspondences. In doing so, he exemplifies the
process of relative suggestion. Browning, in the Ring and the
Book, starts with a comparison between the way in which he,
by the help of his imagination, fashions antiquarian material
into a poem, with the way in which a workman fashions a
ring, by first mingling the gold with an alloy. This is sugges-
tion by formal similarity. But when, at the end of the poem,
he refers to his own ring as lying outside Mrs. Browning's
ring of verse, and so serving to link England to Italy, the
transition in the poet's mind is from the general analogy to a
special correspondence. But the process is most strikingly
illustrated by continuous allegory. Bunyan, in the Pilgrim's
Progress^ starting from the general analogy between an actual
pilgrimage and the spiritual pilgrimage of the Christian, works
out the formal correspondence in elaborate detail. In so
doing he constructs a narrative full of dramatic incidents,
which is interesting quite apart from its allegorical sig-
nificance. And yet the train of ideas is throughout controlled
by the initial analogy. A does not simply suggest B ; it

A a
suggests a yS of such a special kind that „ = o' 1° other

words, the connection of things and events in the actual narra-
tive A B C D, etc., shapes itself so as to correspond to its
spiritual counterpart a /3 7 S, etc, Spenser's Faerie Queene is
full of similar allegories. Take, for instance, the representa-
tion of Care as a blacksmith, who "to small purpose yron
wedges made," ^ and whose bellows were Sighes. In this case

* Bk. iv., canto v.

8o Analytic Psychology.

the reality, in the person of Sir Scudamore, is placed side by-
side in the same room with its allegorical representation.

What is distinctive of the above instances of relative
suggestion is the controlling influence of a definite model.
The mind fashions a new determinate whole according to the
pattern supplied by another equally determinate whole. The
formal scheme embodied in one kind of material is transferred
to another kind of material, so that the old relations are as far
as possible preserved, but new terms are found to satisfy them.
Processes of the kind described are not confined to the
aesthetic play of the mind. They also fulfil an important
function in its scientific work. A geometrician, having hit on
the idea of a fourth dimension, corresponding in its relation
to the third with that of the third to the second, and with that
of the second to the first, works out in detail the corre-
spondence of relations. Thus, on the analogy of the rule by
which we represent the third dimension on a flat surface, he
may endeavour to draw a correspondent representation of the
fourth. The first germ of the law of gravitation probably lay
in the suggested analogy between terrestrial gravity and solar
attraction. But it is just in a case like this that the direct
working of relative suggestion proves inadequate for further
progress. Suppose that Newton initially hit on the compari-
son of the relation of the falling apple to the earth with
that of the moon to the earth ; ^ then relative suggestion
would lead him to anticipate that the identical relation
would express itself in a specifically different way under
specifically different conditions. But the anticipation would
be indeterminate. It would not of itself enable him to
fix in exact detail the special variations. For this, some-
thing else is required. He could not proceed to verify the
analogy without explicitly formal inference. Thus, it required

^ The apple story may very well be a myth.

Relative Suggestion. 8i

an express calculation to determine how the effect of the
earth's attraction would be modified by the moon's primary-
motion of translation.

§ lo. Formal Inference.

Newton was enabled to write his Principia because he
already possessed, or had the power of discovering, general
quantitative formulae expressing in abstract terms the uni-
versal modes according to which the operation of gravity
varies according to various conditions of mass, distance, and so
forth. By the deliberate application of these formulae he
ascertained how it ought to work in the case of the moon and
the earth, and found his results congruent with known facts.
This is one of the instances in which the use of abstract
formulae is greatest and most conspicuous. It is so because it
not only formulates a general relation, but also formulates
with quantitative precision the general laws according to
which its application varies under varying circumstances.
When, on the other hand, we consider such general formulae
as constitute the major premisses of the specimens of syllo-
gistic reasoning which are commonly given in books on logic,
the value of the abstract formulation is much less clear. In
point of fact, we can for ordinary purposes usually dispense
with a major premiss altogether. When it is introduced its
chief utility is that it enables us to criticise our own procedure
by examining our assumptions. We go back from the abstract
formula to collect and compare particular cases, with the view
of justifying, rejecting, or limiting it.

We cannot, of course, at this point investigate the origin of
these abstract formulae. Suffice it to say that they depend on
express comparison and on the use of language.

VOL. II.

f4o^53

CHAPTER VIL

CONATION AND COGNITIVE SYNTHESIS,

§ I. Conation and Cognition Developed

COINCIDENTLY.

In the present chapter we recur to a point which has been
deliberately disregarded in our account of the special con-
ditions that determine the grouping and sequence of presenta-
tions. This point is the essentially active nature of mental
process. As we have seen in the chapters on Activity and
on Attention, the stream of consciousness has always a
current. Conscious process is in every moment directed
towards some end, whether this end be distinctly or vaguely
recognised by the conscious subject, or not recognised at all.
The physiological correlate of this conative aspect of mental
process was identified by us with the tendency of a neural
system to recover a relatively stable condition when its equi-
librium is disturbed by external stimulus or by exciting
conditions within the brain itself. It follows from this that
the laws of mental grouping which we have laid down in the
preceding chapters cannot be considered by themselves except
by a convenient abstraction ; they are merely modes in which
conscious striving seeks satisfaction. To regard them as con-
taining by themselves the explanation of the grouping and
sequence of presentations is like the attempt to explain the
course of a vessel merely by reference to the arrangement of
the sails, without taking into account the existence and direc-
tion of the wind. We have said that such laws as those of

(82)

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 83

association are only modes in which mental striving tends to
realise itself. They therefore presuppose the conative aspect
of consciousness, and do not operate apart from it. But the
direction of mental activity is frequently efficacious in deter-
mining the flow of ideas without the aid of association. It is
not true that the transitions of the mind from one topic to
another are uniformly introduced by links of suggestion.
Dispositions corresponding to strong inclinations often emerge
spontaneously into consciousness. When we are engaged on
an interesting problem, and the train of our ideas is broken by
the intrusion of other claims on our time and attention, our
minds naturally revert to the original topic so soon as the
interruption is over. We spontaneously occupy ourselves with
the prior train of ideas on the cessation of the mental activity
which had temporarily displaced it. So, when we awake in
the morning, or in the darkness of the night, our thoughts
naturally fasten on some subject of special interest to us, in-
dependently of any association of ideas. Such facts as these
are of themselves sufficient to show the inadequacy of the
laws of the interaction of presentations to explain the actual
course of conscious process. But what we are here more
immediately concerned with is the way in which a conation
works by means of these laws, so as to revive and combine
such cognitive elements as are relevant to it, and to exclude
those which are irrelevant.

It is the essence of conation to seek its own satisfaction.
But this is only possible in so far as it acquires a definite and
determinate character. The more blind an impulse is, the
more helpless it is. The new-born infant feels the craving of
hunger and manifests it by diffused movements and by cries.
Its craving is psychically indeterminate, inasmuch as it has no
cognisance of the special object which would satisfy it, or of
the means of attaining this object. Hence the felt want cannot
work out its own satisfaction. The mother or the nurse must

84 Analytic Psychology.

do for the child what it cannot do for itself It is at the outset
even unable to find the breast, and it knows nothing of the action
of sucking, until this follows in a reflex way on the contact of
its lips with the nipple. On the other hand, in proportion as
blind craving gives place to open-eyed desire, the infant
becomes more and more capable of fulfilling its own wants.
Throughout this process the original conation is the factor
which is primarily operative. It tends to define itself, and the
gradual acquisition of knowledge through experience is but
another expression for the process whereby the originally blind
craving becomes more distinct and differentiated. To this
growing distinctness and differentiation correspond more and
more special and complex combinations of movements. Thus
the vague craving for food becomes the desire to suck. The
infant which could not at first find the nipple, of itself points
to the bottle. Further development brings preference for
this or that kind of food, the us:e of knife and fork, and the
earning of money to buy nourishment.

We must here guard against a serious error. It must
not be supposed that conscious needs produce those
cognitive combinations which lead to their satisfaction,
as a spider spins its web. The grouping of cognitions
is no mere external machinery which intervenes between
the felt want and its gratification. On the contrary, it
is the way in which the conation itself grows and develops.
In becoming less blind it ipso facto becomes more complex
and differentiated. The vague craving of the new-born
infant becomes a specific desire to suck the breast of its
nurse ; and in the long run it becomes transformed into the
desire to earn a living. As a mental tendency becomes pro-
gressively more complex, each constituent part of it which
emerges in the process is itself a conation. To desire the end
is eo ipso to desire the means. From this point of view we
gain an insight into the development of our psychical life as a

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 85

whole. It is not only true that each constituent of a complex
conation is itself of the nature of conation ; it constantly
happens that such partial constituents assume an independent
character, so that they come to constitute separate tendencies
finding their satisfaction independently of the original end.
They may even become more important, persistent, and
engrossing than the conation out of which they grew.

The general principle from which we start is that when the
primary element of a complex tendency becomes inoperative,
the remainder still retains and manifests its conative character.
This is exemplified in the endeavour to procure satisfaction
for an organic need when the organic need is not itself actually
felt. Thus we may attempt to obtain food in order to provide
against anticipated hunger, as well as to relieve actual hunger.
In this case the bodily craving is non-existent. The idea of
it is present, but for the most part this involves a very faint, if
any, revival of the uneasiness of actual hunger. What remain
and operate are the acquired tendencies which have grouped
themselves round the primitive impulse. It is the complex
conation constituted by these residual tendencies which is
called into play by the idea of approaching hunger. The
satisfaction of this desire does not lie in actual eating, as in
the case of actual hunger, but in the production of certain
arrangements which will ensure food when it is required.

Other instances belong to that large class of cases which is
commonly, though inaccurately, described as involving a "trans-
ference of desire from the end to the means". The partial cona-
tion acquires an independence of such a nature that the result
which it tends to bring about, and in which it finds satisfac-
tion, is disconnected from the immediate conditions which
gratify the primary tendency. It is difficult to attach a
definite and tenable meaning to the word " transference " in
the ordinary formula. The transference is said to take place
through association ; thus avarice is explained as a trans-

86 Analytic Psychology.

ference by association of the desire for the objects which
money can buy to the money itself. Now, it is obvious that
the idea of money must become firmly associated with the
idea of the objects which it can procure, and with the desire
for such objects. But what is meant by saying that the
desires for the articles thus procurable are transferred to the
idea of the money ? When we abstract from the nature of
the objects to which they are directed the desires wholly
lose their distinctive character. What remains is merely
conation in the abstract, and I fail to see how this can
be regarded as a possible constituent of an associated com-
plex. The original connection between the thought of an
object and the desire for it is not one of association ; and if
the association does not exist, how can it be transferred ? It
is also manifest that in any case the word " transference "
cannot be literally interpreted in its ordinary acceptation.
When I transfer a thing from myself to another, I cease to
possess it myself; but it is not true that when the means
comes to be desired for its own sake the original end ceases to
be an object of desire.

Our position is free from these difficulties. For us the
desire of the end includes from the outset, as a constituent
part of itself, the desire of the means. Indeed, from a strictly
psychological point of view, the means, so soon as it is recog-
nised as such, becomes an integral part of the end. Our
problem is to trace the conditions through which a conation,
forming initially merley part of a more complex tendency,
comes to assume an independent character. These conditions
are of two kinds, which we may call formal and material.
Among the first we may begin by naming the intervention of
a special difficulty interfering with the ordinary course of
habitual action. The opening of a door is not ordinarily a
result which is keenly desired for its own sake ; as a rule it
takes place in an automatic way. But if, on trying the handle

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. %']

of a familiar door by which we are accustomed to go out and
in, we find that it does not yield to our pressure, there imme-
diately arises an intense desire to effect our purpose. Mare
success in opening the door becomes itself an object of keen
interest, which may be out of all proportion to our interest in
the ensuing consequences. We resent the interruption of the
ordinary course of things, the interference with an habitual
process. The attraction of the forbidden is to a large extent
explicable in the same way. It is felt with especial strength
when the forbidden act has been in the past regarded as a
matter of course. In these cases a tendency which is usuaa>'
subordinate suddenly asserts its independence in consequence
of a special and exceptional circumstance. But permanent
independence may be accounted for in a manner substantially
the same. A mode of mental activity which repeats itself
with undisturbed uniformity on the recurrence of uniform con-
ditions, will never manifest itself as a separate impulse. Its
existence will be merged in that of the whole tendency of
which it forms a part We have just seen that it may
disengage itself and appear as a separate conation when it
encounters some exceptional difficulty. We have now to add
that when the process involves constant readjustment to new
circumstances, instead of taking place in an automatic or ap-
proximately automatic way, it becomes a permanently inde-
pendent tendency. In so far as this condition is fulfilled, it is
never merely an undistinguished constituent of a more complex
conation, and it may come to operate in detachment from the
primary impulse in which it took its rise. The essence of the
matter is that any process, in proportion as it has become fixed
by repetition, tends to complete itself when it is partially revived.
This tendency is of itself a conation. It is separately felt as
such when and so far as the special conditions of its partial
revival vary in a way which is not thoroughly familiar, and s®
call for a readaptation, by relative suggestion or otherwise,

88 Analytic Psychology.

which cannot take place in an automatic manner. Now, it is
evident that readjustment to relatively novel conditions will
be greater and more frequent the greater is the systematic
complexity of the process itself; and that, conversely, the
more frequent and elaborate are the readjustments required,
the more complex will the process become.

We may, then, regard the systematic complexity of a tendency
as a very important formal condition favouring its independent
operation. We shall see in the next section that disinterested
curiosity or love of knowledge emerges, according to this prin-
ciple, from the more primitive strivings which aim at the
satisfaction of practical needs. We may here adduce as a
special instance the interest which a chess-player takes in
solving problems or playing over games, apart from any
ulterior end such as that of defeating an opponent. The com-
plexity and difficulty of the process of following out chess
complications constitute its charm. As another example we
may refer to the hold which a business involving skill and
sustained attention often gains upon a man who at first
perhaps only takes it up with a view to earning a livelihood.
The excitement of his calling may come to be more essential
to his happiness than the wealth it brings him. The formal
condition, then, under which a previously subordinate
conation acquires more or less complete independence, is
the need for that kind of readjustment which we have
already assigned as the distinctive mark of attentive as
distinguished from automatic process. Such readjustment is
called for when a preformed mental connection, in realising
itself in consciousness, leads up to conflicting alternatives, or
to logical contradiction, or to conflict between idea and
actual perception, or when in any way it has to be modified to
meet variations to which we are not fully habituated.

The material conditions are those which lie in the particular
nature of this or that conation. A special mode of activity

Conation and Cognitive oyfithesis. 89

which at first arises as part of a more complex conation may-
open out new sources of satisfaction, either for other acquired
tendencies or for tendencies ingrained in the inherited psycho-
physical organisation. A process which is primarily directed
to the realisation of a certain end may in fact be found con-
ducive to other ends. A child may at first desire to possess
property of its own, mainly, or only, as a means of enjoying
the objects possessed ; but it will find a new source of
gratification in the increased sense of power and importance
which its possessions confer ; it will, for instance, find itself
respected and envied by its playmates on account of them.
The growth of the love of money for its own sake is an
excellent example. Apart from exceptional cases of inborn
miserliness, money is at first desired for the sake of spending
it, and so obtaining by its means various gratifications. But,
as Thomas Brown says, " the mystery of this strange passion
arises only when the enjoyments which it could command are
sacrificed to the mere possession of the means of commanding
them "} Brown himself furnishes the most essential part of
the explanation, at least in ordinary cases. A permanent
sense of power bound up with the possession of money is
preferred to the fugitive enjoyment of spending it ; and, on
the negative side, there is a stronger aversion to the loss of
this power than to the sacrifice of this or that particular
gratification. " Before the boy lays out his penny in the pur-
chase of an apple or an orange, it appears valuable to him
chiefly as the mode of obtaining the apple or orange. But the
fruit, agreeable as it may have been while it lasted, is soon
devoured, its value with respect to him has wholly ceased, and
the penny he knows is still in existence, and would have been
still his own if the fruit had not been purchased. He thinks
of the penny, therefore, as existing now, and existing without

^ Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. iii., p. 403.

90 Analytic Psychology.

anything which he can oppose to it as equivalent, and the
feeling of regret arises — the wish that he had not made the
purchase, and that the penny, as still existing, and equally
capable as before of procuring some new enjoyment, had con-
tinued in his pocket."^ It may be said that in this process the
means does not come to be desired for its own sake, but only
for the sake of an end different from that to which it is at first
directed. This is true, of course, if we distinguish between
money and purchasing power ; but the essential point is that
the power of purchase, as such, is at first merely desired as a
means, and afterwards comes to be desired as an end, because
of the immediate gratification which it affords, and the corre-
sponding painful restriction which the want of it occasions.
This gratification is a pleasure accompanying free ideal
activity .2 When we possess the means of commanding desir-
able or avoiding undesirable things, we can without let or
hindrance imagine ourselves obtaining the one or escaping
the other. The sense of impotence, on the other hand, is a
check on the flow of ideas, restricting inward freedom, and so
producing in many minds greater discomfort than the sacrifice

* Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. iii., p. 405.

- " In the chain of islands which stretch away from the south-eastern
end of New Guinea, one finds an interesting metamorphosis of the stone
axe. The stone axe was very precious among these people, to whom the
art of working in metals is still unknown. A large fine axe would have
very considerable value, and the exhibition of it would be a symbol of
wealth, and, consequently, of power. The desire to be recognised as
wealthy has resulted in the development of a stone axe of which the
stone is very large, often remarkably thin and beautifully polished, and
is hafted to an unwieldy handle which may be carved and decorated
with shell-money and other ornaments. The value of such an ornament
seems to depend upon the amount of work required to produce it ; its
inutility enhances the reputation of the wealth of its possessor; thus we
appear to arrive at certain primitive conceptions. Work done gives
ownership to property. One form of wealth is the possession of un-
necessary or useless property ; the exhibition of this gives power to the
owner " (A. C. Haddon, Evolution in Art, pp. 78-79).

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 91

of particular enjoyments which can only be gained by spend-
ing. To such persons the loss of wealth is a curtailment of
existence — a kind of mutilation of their conscious being. Of
course, the whole secret of avarice is far from being contained
in this explanation. The mere process of accumulating money
has in many instances an irresistible charm of its own. This
is to a large extent explicable by what we have called the
formal conditions of the independent growth of a desire. The
process of accumulating and saving is an engrossing one ; it
calls into play the complex and persistent exercise of mental
activity, and this of itself is sufficient to constitute an impulse
which demands gratification for its own sake. To this we
may add that there may be in some men an inborn tendency
to hoarding, comparable with the instinctive impulse of
certain animals, such as the raven.

Another good instance of an activity which is at first
subordinated to the attainment of an ulterior end, but in
practice turns out to have a specific value of its own, is that of
hunting. This, to begin with, was a means of obtaining food.
Now it is followed in civilised life chiefly as an amusement.
The physical exercise and the display of skill in overcoming
difficulties have a charm of their own. Hence they become
an object of desire for their own sake, and the killing of the
hunted animal is only pursued as a means which makes
possible the pleasures of the chase. Of course, the mere
enjoyment of overcoming difficulties by skill is accounted for
by formal conditions. But the pleasant organic sensations
which constitute a large portion of the attraction cannot be
brought under this head.

Side by side with the evolution of relatively new
desires there is found the inverse process of the gradual
decay of impulses initially intense and engrossing. The
general principle of this decay is that a conation, in
attaining its end, ceases to exist. In some instances ten-

92 Analytic Psychology.

dencies which at the outset played an important part in
mental life pass into automatic processes, which only appear
as independent conations when some exceptional circumstance
occurs to interrupt their normal course. The mental attitude
of the child in learning to walk is one of conscious endeavour.
When he has become habituated to the act he performs it
without attending to his movements, his mind being fixed on
the attainment of other ends. Organic cravings, such as
hunger and thirst, can never in this way wholly fall outside
the sphere of attentive consciousness, since they are bound up
with regularly recurrent bodily needs, which cannot be fully
satisfied as soon as they emerge. But it is none the less true
that in proportion as the methods of appeasing them have
become speedy, facile, and uniform, they play a less con-
spicuous part in conscious life. They occupy quite sub-
ordinate positions in the consciousness of a person to whom a
regular recurrence of sufficient meals is a matter of course. If
a civilised man in good circumstances thinks much about his
dinner, what he has in view is rather the special pleasures of
the palate than the mere gratification of hunger. This
enfeeblement of conation with the increased facility of its
satisfaction would, apart from the working of other conditions,
lead to a state of comparative mental stagnation such as we
find in animals. It is counteracted, as we have seen, by the
gradual differentiation of relatively simple tendencies. The
relatively blind impulse in satisfying itself must define itself,
and in becoming defined it becomes transformed, so that what
was adequate to satisfy it in its simpler phase proves in-
adequate in its more complex phase.

Apart from the perpetual germination of one conation out
of another, the characteristic features of the mental life of
human beings would be inexplicable. When Pope said that
" Man never is but always to be blest," he touched on the very
essence of human consciousness as distinguished from that of

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 93

the lower animals. Hobbes expresses the same fact in
another way when he asserts that " there is no satisfaction but
in proceeding". The peculiar feature of the life of animals
which prevents progressive development is the existence of
instincts which do for them what the human being must da
for himself. Their inherited organisation is such that they
perform the movements adapted to supply their needs on the
mere occurrence of an appropriate external stimulus. These
motor reactions may in some degree be improved in accuracy
and fitness by experience, but the amount of acquired definite-
ness and precision is so small as to be negligible when we
institute a comparison with the human being. In man, a blind
craving has to grope its way from darkness into light in order
to become effective ; in the animal, the means of its satisfaction
are provided ready-made by nature at the outset.

If we turn to the physiological aspect of conation it seems
possible to find a general formula for the independent
development of a mental tendency. Conation has its physio-
logical correlate in the tendency of a neural system to recover
relative stability when its equilibrium is disturbed. Now,
suppose a complex system A, which includes as partial com-
ponents /, q, r. Initially, disturbance of equilibrium and
tendency to its recovery affect this system as a whole. So
long and so far as this is the case, the activity of the partial
systems p, g, r, will be merged in that of the whole to which
they belong. But so soon and so far as any one of the partial
systems suffers a disturbing excitement which primarily
affects it alone, independently of the others, its correlate in
consciousness is a separate and independent conation.

§ 2. Practical and Theoretical Conation.

In the beginning of mental life practical needs are para-
mount. Purely intellectual curiosity disengages itself from
these only by a process of gradual evolution. A practical

94 Analytic Psychology.

need is one which demands for its ultimate satisfaction an
actual change produced in the environment, or in the relation
of the organism to the environment, or at least in the
consciousness of power to produce such change. Theoretical
needs, on the contrary, require for their ultimate satisfaction
only an extension of knowledge and removal of doubt without
alteration in the things known. This does not imply that
theoretical satisfaction can always be obtained purely by the
flow of ideas. Of course it constantly calls for observation
and experiment. The essential point is that observation and
experiment, inasmuch as they are only intended to appease
intellectual curiosity, are means to an end : and that the ulti-
mate end consists in the unimpeded flow of ideas previously
obstructed by the competition of conflicting alternatives.

We have now to consider how theoretical conation, which is
solely directed to the attainment of an unobstructed course
for trains of thought, emerges into independence from the
complex of practical tendencies which are initially directed to
the maintenance of the life and physical well-being of the
individual. One obvious characteristic of these most primitive
impulses is that their satisfaction, so far as it is not externally
provided for, directly depends on bodily movement. Thus the
first stages in the definition and differentiation of such ten-
dencies coincide with the growing definition and differentiation
of motor process. The cognitive development, in and through
which the conation becomes more determinate, serves only to
guide the bodily activity. The ideas and perceptions which
arise are ideas and perceptions of the conditions of direct
action upon the environment or change in the spatial relation
of the organism to the environment by means of the muscles.
Thus the systematic co-ordination of presentations has its
almost exact counterpart in the systematic co-ordination of
motor processes. The diflused mobility which is the outward
expression of hunger in the new-born infant develops into the

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 95

definite action of suction, and this is succeeded by the more
complex processes of mastication, of prehension, of lifting the
food to the mouth, of the use of knife and fork, etc. Corre-
sponding to the growing complexity and co-ordination of
movement, there is an increasing complexity and co-ordination
in the grouping of cognitive elements by which movement is
guided ; and this, again, constitutes a growing complexity and
co-ordination of the primitive impulse with which the whole
process starts. The entire mental development of the child in
its early phases finds in like manner an adequate expression
or translation in terms of bodily movement. The education
of the senses has its external counterpart in the growing
complexity and definiteness of the motor adaptations of the
sense-organs, and of the other movements by which we are
enabled to obtain impressions in a systematic order by
changing the position of bodies in space, or our own position
in relation to them. As a type of the whole process, we may
take the exploration of boundaries by the eye or hand. The
primary craving with which the education of the senses
begins, so far as it does not involve such special practical
needs as that for food, may be described as a general craving
for stimulation or excitement. This is seen in the fascination
which a bright light has for the very young child. But this
conation is, in the first instance, in the highest degree indeter-
minate. It assumes definite direction and becomes specialised
in definite channels through the guidance afforded by the
contours of things in space, and the edges which divide one
colour from another. Of course, as experience advances
and the brain grows, new tendencies emerge through the
awakening of congenital dispositions ingrained in the nervous
organisation. But these innate dispositions manifest them-
selves at first as mere vague cravings, and become differen-
tiated only by a gradual development. In this gradual
education of the senses there is a stage in which purely

96 Analytic Psychology.

theoretical curiosity seems to play a part. The child appears
to explore objects with hand and eye, merely to find out what
they are like. It shows the same bias in a more advanced
stage when it breaks its toys in order to find out what is inside
them. But perhaps the real question in the mind of the child
is rather, "What can I do with this?" than "What is this?"
In any case the practical impulse comes first and remains
throughout inseparably blended with the theoretical.

Among the specific tendencies which seem to have their
source in the inherited organisation are those which lie
at the root of the special emotions. The child, for example,
early manifests anger and fear. Anger initially expresses
and satisfies itself by a peculiar form of violent motor dis-
charge. Even at the outset it takes the form of an effort to
overcome resistance by main force. The young child who has
acquired no definite mode of wreaking its passion, shows it
by vague kicking and struggling, by movements which
antagonise each other, and which encounter resistance in
external objects. The development of cognitive conscious-
ness simply serves to restrict this diffused mobility within
more definite channels. The child in a later stage throws
his plaything violently to the ground, or pushes it away, or
breaks it, or, in the case of a person who thwarts his will, he
kicks, pushes, or strikes. Even the adult may find some satis-
faction for his irritation in destroying furniture, and he nearly
always has a strong disposition to break, crush, tear, or rend
something. Inasmuch as his anger has become enlightened
and defined, his destructive impulse will become more
specially directed against the object by which his desires are
crossed or thwarted. But when the conditions deny him this
satisfaction, it is well known that the angry man is very apt
to wreak his anger on inoffensive things or persons, thus
approximating to the condition of the child. Though the
tendency to overcome resistance by violent exertion of bodily

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 97

force seems always to play some part in anger, yet with the
advance of intellectual development it gives place more and
more to an ideal satisfaction ; it becomes enough to know, or
sometimes even to imagine, that the opposing forces have been
crushed by our agency. This is of course a direct consequence
of the growing importance of the life of ideas as compared with
that of perception. But even in the ideal satisfaction of anger
the impulse to destroy or break down opposition may be satis-
fied to some extent by wreaking it on other objects than those
which immediately awaken resentment. The relief afforded
by swearing comes under this head. It is a breaking down of
the ideal barriers which social convention or religious senti-
ment sets up. As anger is primarily expressed in movements
which seek to meet and crush opposition, so fear is primarily
expressed in movements which tend to evade or escape it.
The process whereby these movements of shrinking or with-
drawal pass into definite and complex actions by which we
escape or evade special kinds of threatened injury, is quite
parallel to that which we have illustrated in the case of anger.
In both instances we have two initially blind tendencies
gradually differentiating themselves, and so becoming trans-
formed with the growth of experience.

We have next to consider the transition from those practical
conations which find their full expression and satisfaction in
bodily activity and its proximate consequences, to those which
require for their realisation prolonged trains of thought. This
transition takes place if and so far as the result aimed at
depends on an intervening series of events which cannot be
directly influenced by our actions. Here it is obvious that
prevision of a causal series issuing in the desired end is
a necessary condition of its attainment. We must be able
ideally to construct the sequence of occurrences which will
follow on our initiative. In so far as continued interference

on our part is required as a contributory factor, we must
VOL. II. 7

q8 Analytic Psychology.

endeavour to foresee where, when, and how it is to be brought
to bear. Sometimes a pre-arrangement of external conditions
is a necessary preliminary. This renders the ideal construc-
tion more complicated, because we have not merely to
anticipate the modes in which things or persons will comport
themselves when the train of occurrences which we set in
motion affects them, but also how we can modify them
beforehand, so that they may be affected by it in a certain
way. For instance, the commercial speculator has to control
his buying and selling by prevision of the rise and fall of
prices ; and he sometimes endeavours directly to influence
the state of the market beforehand by his own agency.

In this way complex and sustained intellectual activity may
arise in the service of practical ends. This ideal process, as it
becomes more extensive and involves more adaptation to
varying conditions, takes on more and more the character of
an independent conation. Successful ingenuity of itself gives
satisfaction both as a coherent train of ideas and in its coinci-
dence with fact, when it comes to be verified by trial. On the
other hand, difficulties which defy solution give pain merely
because they impede the flow of mental construction, apart
from the obstruction they offer to the attainment of practical
results. So, too, the disappointment of expectation when a
contrivance turns out a failure, may be a source of dissatisfac-
tion merely because of the collision between the preformed
connection of ideas and the actual course of events.

With the growing complexity of the life of ideas, there will
also arise discrepancy, incoherence, and indeterminateness of
ideal relations, giving birth to problems which have no
immediate practical interest. In so far as these problems
arrest the free course of thought, and so engross attention for
their own sake, a purely theoretical activity ensues. But so
long as the mind is mainly absorbed in practical pursuits, it is
not likely that purely theoretical questions of the kind will

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 99

occupy attention otherwise than in an occasional and transient
way. Plato was on the right track when he referred the origin
of philosophy to the emergence of apparent contradictions and
difficulties in the common-sense view of the world. But this
explanation is not complete. The practical man, who knows
enough for his purpose, shows a marked tendency to thrust
aside speculative difficulties, or to treat them as a mere amuse-
ment for an idle hour. Even the student of physical science
is apt to be content with his fundamental conceptions, and to
treat the philosophical criticism, which reveals their essential
incoherency, as mere trifling.

It is obvious that we must introduce supplementary con-
ditions, if we are to give a full explanation of the origin of the
mental attitude of the man of science or of the philosopher.
The conditions so far assigned are not adequate. They
show how, in the pursuit of practical ends, sources of satisfac-
tion and dissatisfaction arise which are not themselves
practical. But they do not show why these theoretical
interests should so sever themselves from the practical as to
become dominant ; they do not account for cases in which
men may be said rather to live for the sake of thinking than
to think for the sake of living. Such predominance of
theoretical interests only becomes possible in a state of society
in which part of the population are more or less freed from
the necessity of living by their own exertions. The pursuit of
science and philosophy for their own sake presupposes leisure.
But at this point we are confronted with a difficulty. If the
growth of theoretical interest depends on the growing com-
plexity of systems of ideas, and if this in its turn depends on
the existence of practical needs, which require for their satis-
faction the exercise of intellectual ingenuity, how can theoretical
curiosity ever become strongly developed in persons who live a
life of leisure ? If the leisure comes to them after prolonged
exertion of a practical kind, their mental striving will already

lOO Analytic Psychology.

have become set in a practical direction, and they will therefore
form very unpromising material for the shaping of disinterested
scientific discoverers. There is, however, a condition of para-
mount importance which overcomes this difficulty, and supplies
an adequate solution for our problem. I refer to the influence
of the social factor. Society supplies the needs of the individual
in a two-fold manner. In the first place, each man depends
upon the co-operation of others for the satisfaction of his
practical needs, for the maintenance of his existence and of
his material well-being. Without the aid of others he cannot
mould and adapt his material environment to his own use.
Perhaps the child's interest in the persons who surround him,
and his desire to communicate with them, are at the outsetmainly
of this practical character. But at a very early stage in the
development of the individual, the desire for sympathy and
mutual understanding becomes itself a primary end. The
mental life of man in society is as immediately dependent
on interchange of ideas with his fellow-men as it is on the use
of his senses. The first strong development of pure curiosity
arises in connection with social relations. It consists in the
felt need to know what those around us are doing or thinking.
The greater part of all ordinary conversation, both among the
civilised and the uncivilised, illustrates this primary social im-
pulse. Even the interest of human beings in nature, apart
from their immediate practical needs, was at the outset an
interest in personified natural objects. Another aspect of this
desire for communion with our fellows, and of aversion for that
mutilation of mental existence which social isolation involves,
is found in what may be broadly termed the tendency to
imitation, — the tendency to assimilate ourselves to the
society in which we live, so that we may understand and
sympathise with it, and it may understand and sympathise
with us. But this rapport with our social environment can
only be acquired by possessing ourselves of the ideas which

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. loi

are current in it. We must be able to talk about the topics
which others talk of. Nor do we merely desire to understand
what they say. We require that they shall be interested in us.
For this purpose, it is useful to know what they do not know
but desire to learn. Hence arises the impulse to acquire
knowledge which may prove of interest to others, and by
this means to secure for ourselves a recognised and respected
place in the social organisation. In this social tendency is
found an initial motive for the pursuit of knowledge apart
from reference to practical utility. Of course it is only at
the beginning that it is of predominant importance ; yet
perhaps it is never wholly absent. Even the most dis-
interested student of science has probably always more or
less before him the idea of the appreciation of his work by
others, though these may be only a select few.

To realise the full importance of the social factor, we must
take into account the continuity of human progress from one
generation to another. The intellectual acquisitions of the
past are transmitted as a legacy, by way of oral tradition or
written record, to the present. Thus the impulse to place our-
selves in an attitude of sympathetic understanding with our
fellow-men is largely an impulse which seeks sympathetic
understanding of the work of our ancestors, and which en-
deavours as far as possible to establish a claim on the in-
terests and gratitude of our successors. This linking together
of successive generations, through the permanent inheritance
which one leaves to another, makes possible the gradual
accumulation of knowledge. What in one age is a difficult
and laborious discovery becomes in the next an idea in current
circulation, so that it is acquired by the individual as a matter
of course, and at the expense of comparatively little time or
effort. But this of itself involves increase in the range and
intensity of theoretical interests ; the desire to know grows by
what it feeds on.

I02 Analytic Psychology.

This brings us back to the fundamental position that all
mental process, as such, is conation, and that the more
complex and systematic it is, the more it asserts itself as in-
dependent conation. The development of immediate theoret-
ical interest apart from collateral motives depends in part on
the systematic complexity of the knowledge already attained.
The more extensive a system of ideas is, the larger is the part
it plays in the mental life, and the more completely does it
disengage itself as an independent tendency. A boy may
begin to study Greek at first because he is expected to do
so by his parents and schoolmaster, — because it is a means of
winning their approval, — because the people he is to associate
with are the kind of people who understand Greek, — or even
because he will be flogged if he does not. But by the time he
has gone through a classical course at a university, he will in
all probability have acquired at least some degree of interest
in verse-making, in textual emendations, and so forth, inde-
pendently of extraneous motives. Of course very much
depends upon congenital aptitude. This is by no means
the least important condition which we have to consider.
The essential point, so far as regards the present discussion,
is that congenital aptitude is also congenital proclivity. To
have a special turn for a certain line of study is, ceteris paribus,
to have a special disposition to pursue it. This disposition can
only be called into play under appropriate conditions ; but
when it is so it often manifests itself in a very striking manner.
This is best seen in the case of men of genius. Pascal's father
refrained from teaching his son mathematics until he had been
fully grounded in classics. But the boy happened to inquire
one day what geometry was : he was told that it investigated
the properties of lines and figures. He straightway began to
investigate the properties of lines and figures for himself; and
in so doing discovered and demonstrated many of the proposi-
tions of Euclid. Malebranche again, casually taking up a

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 103

volume of Descartes, was thrown by it into a state of intense
bodily and mental excitement, which formed the starting-
point of his philosophical work. Similar instances could be
easily accumulated. Perhaps there is no man of genius whose
biography would fail to yield striking illustration. We also
frequently meet with instances of a similar kind in which the
congenital aptitude falls short of what is generally known
as genius. In one such instance known to myself, a youth,
after drifting through life in such a way as to impress his
friends with his want of any special bias or special capacity,
and after having determined on entering the army, simply
because he was bound to do something, and nothing else had
greater attraction for him, had his whole career permanently
revolutionised by a casual conversation with his coach about
Herbert Spencer's philosophy. Since then philosophy has
been the leading interest of his life.

Perhaps it may be as well to remind the reader that,
though mental process as it advances in complexity becomes
less and less capable of adequate expression in terms of motor
process, yet some motor process is always involved in it.
Even the most purely theoretical trains of thought cannot be
carried on without the movements by which attention fixes
and detains the particular images, which successively emerge
into consciousness. Thus, even those who regard motor
expression as the distinctive character of conation, must admit
that thinking, being a motor activity, has a good title to be
brought under this head,

§ 3. Miscellaneous Illustrations.

The general position that cognitive synthesis is merely the
way in which active tendencies define and differentiate them-

I04 Analytic Psychology.

selves, is of so much importance that some additional eluci-
dation may not be out of place.^

The special emotions perhaps supply the most conspicuous
examples. The ideas and combinations of ideas which arise in
a mind under the influence of vehement passion, are all such
as in some manner harmonise with the dominant tendency.
They explain it, justify it, or gratify it. Defoe describes in a
very vivid and natural manner the state of Crusoe's mind after
seeing the print of a man's naked foot on the shore : "I came
home to my fortification, not feeling, as we say, the ground I
went on, but terrified to the last degree ; looking behind me
at every two or three steps, mistaking every bush and tree, and
fancying every stump at a distance to be a man. Nor is it
possible to describe how many various shapes my affrighted
imagination represented things to me in, how many wild ideas
were found every moment in my fancy, and what strange
unaccountable whimsies came into my thoughts by the way."
On the other hand, after discovering the remains of a cannibal
feast, his emotional attitude becomes transformed from fear to
violent indignation, and this change is accompanied by a
corresponding transformation in the general current of his
ideas : " But my invention now ran quite another way ; for,
night and day, I could think of nothing but how I might
destroy some of these monsters in their cruel, bloody entertain-
ment, and, if possible, save the victim they should bring

^ In this connection, I desire to recommend a book by Andre
Godferneaux, entitled Le Sentiment et la Pensee (F. Alcan, 1894). The
author greatly exaggerates the exactness of the correspondence between
conation and motor process, and he seems disposed to regard cognitive
synthesis rather as a web which conative tendencies spin, than as
the definition of these tendencies themselves. But in the main I can
appeal to his book as containing a corroboration of the doctrine
advocated in the present work. My own view is at bottom essentially
similar to that of Spinoza, when he says that ideas are not dumb pictures
on a tablet, but specific modes of the primary conatus which constitutes
our being.

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 105

hither to destroy ". In Crusoe's case, the first inrush of fear
and anger arose in connection with definite objects ; but they
not unfrequently occur merely through general organic condi-
tions without any particular occasion. When this happens,
the emotion finds or makes objects for itself without any
definite cue to start from. If illness or want of sleep has
thrown a man into an irritable mood, then circumstances,
which might otherwise have appeared indifferent or even
agreeable, are apt to provoke his resentment. He puts a
wrong construction on the behaviour of others, and sees
everything through a distorted medium. To use a slang
expression, he has got out of bed on the wrong side. This
influence of organic conditions in determining emotion, and
with it the train of ideas, is best seen in those moods ol
depression and elation which, in some persons, follow each
other with an almost rhythmic regularity. In the state of ela-
tion the step is elastic, the speech fluent, and in general bodily
movements are prompt and rapid. In the state of depression
there is a tendency to walk slowly or to keep still ; speech is
comparatively slow and hesitating, and movement in general
is sluggish and vacillating. These external features have their
counterpart in the accompanying psychical condition. In the
elated mood the flow of ideas is easy and rapid. If difficulties
occur, they only provoke an energetic effort to overcome or
evade them, and if they are recognised as insuperable, we pass
with comparative ease to some other line of activity. Now this
felt power and freedom which characterises the state of
elation, tends, like other conative states, to define itself in
appropriate ideas and combinations of ideas. In such a mood
we naturally take a roseate view of things; of our own
prospects of success, of what others think about us, and so
forth. The opposite holds good in depression. Here the
movement of ideas is comparatively slow and difficult. It is
as if the channels of thought were clogged and obstructed.

io6 Analytic Psychology.

The links of the ideal chain succeed each other with
appreciable delay and effort, and we have often to go back
and make a new start. The general sense of mental impotence,
characteristic of depression, finds its definition in an unfavour-
able view of our own position and prospects. Difficulties which,
in a state of elation, would have seemed comparatively trifling,
or would have only served to call forth a development of our
resources for overcoming them, appear now as impassable
barriers which prevent us even from imagining success. Our
thoughts fasten themselves on the hostile and disagreeable
side of things, disregarding or feebly resenting the bright side.
These moods of depression and elation, due to organic con-
ditions, may of course arise in various ways. The elation may
be produced by taking too much wine in the evening, and the
depression may be the well-known sequel in the morning.
But on both the bodily and mental sides the most pronounced
forms of these states are found in certain types of insanity — in
melancholia, and in that mental exaltation which is generally
connected with some degree of mania or intellectual inco-
herence. Simple melancholia is in the main an intense
exaggeration of ordinary depression. The patient has a
general sense of fatigue ; he shows a strong antipathy to all
muscular effort ; even the exertion required to put on his
clothes may be too much for him ; sometimes he obstinately
refuses to quit his bed. His voice is feeble and unemphatic ;
the latent innervation of the muscles is diminished ; the neck
drops, the head hangs, the face is elongated ; vaso-motor
action is profoundly affected ; the calibre of the arteries is
diminished ; the pulse is enfeebled, and the constriction of the
larger vessels is accompanied by stenosis of the capillaries.
This paludism or stagnation of the blood-supply is probably
the primary feature of the disease, on which the other
symptoms depend. As a consequence of the innutritions
thus produced, all the secretions are diminished. The general

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 107

clogging of the organic functions involves the brain also ;
hence the psychical characters of melancholia. Sustained and
complex trains of thought become impossible ; the flow of
ideas becomes a slow and painful effort. There is a sense of
mental fatigue corresponding to the sense of bodily fatigue.
The patient, for example, on being asked a simple question,
may require to reflect for some seconds before answering.
Sometimes it may be necessary to repeat the question two or
three times. The higher the degree of noetic synthesis
involved, the more slow and difficult does the process become.
Thus a female patient on being shown a lily and asked to
identify it, at first hesitates, and then says " a flower ". On
being pressed to say what kind of flower, she hesitates once
more before pronouncing it to be a lily.^ The same patient,
in order to multiply 8 by 6, wrote the number 6 eight times,
and succeeded in the addition after two mistakes.^ Another
characteristic of melancholia is the aboulia which accompanies
it. The patient is unable to come to a decision, or at any rate
to carry the decision out when it comes to the point. Another
feature of such cases is persistent obsession by the same ideas;
the mental state of the melancholic patient is monotonous.
The difficulty of passing to new ideas involves persistent pre-
occupation with the old. Now, just as in ordinary depression,
so in the asthenia of melancholia the ideas on which the mind
fastens are such as to explain and justify its own experience
of impotence and oppression by hostile forces. The conacive
state defines itself in the cognitive. Thus, in a case described by
the same author, a woman harped continually on having twice
deceived her husband years ago, on her disbelief that she had
really been forgiven by him, on an attempt which she had made
to produce abortion when she was enceinte, on the death of a
relation, on the weakness of her son's eyes, and her anticipation

^ Dumas, Lc% Etats intellectuels dans la Melancolie, p. 72.

'Ibid., p. 74.

io8 Analytic Psychology.

that he will become blind. Within this narrow circle her
thoughts seemed to confine themselves without finding any
outlet ; reasoning and remonstrance served simply to make
her pass from one of this narrow group of depressing topics to
another, but utterly failed to give her any new or brighter
view of things.^

Some writers on mental pathology make much of the distinction be-
tween depression arising primarily from general organic disturbance,
and that which in the first instance is, as they say, " intellectual " in
its origin. The distinction is no doubt an important one ; but to a
psychologist it appears to be very badly expressed. It seems a strange
perversion of language to say that depression occasioned, e.g., by the
loss of a fortune, is due in the first instance to an idea, and that
emotional change is a secondary consequence. The loss of a fortune is,
in itself, a very strong emotional shock. The cognitive apprehension of
the loss and the emotional disturbance are one and the same event.
The distinction is really between depression which begins with an
emotional disturbance referring to a specific object, and due to special
circumstances in the personal history of the individual, and one which
begins with general depression and is not traceable to any special
circumstance in the experience of the individual. Where the occasion
is special, some degree of general depression follows, having its source
and support in general organic disturbance. This vague impression will
tend to define itself, like that which arises without special external
occasion. An important difference between the two cases is that the
depression with specific origin is already partially defined, and this
partial definition forms a nucleus around which other defining ideas
crystallise. It also happens in normal life that states of general de-
pression may either originate spontaneously or be traceable to some
definite motives.

The pathological state of exaltation with its accompanying
ideas of grandeur and its sanguine self-complacency, arises in
connection with an impairment of noetic synthesis. Its bodily
expression is contrasted with that of melancholia inasmuch as
it is characterised by an apparent increase of motor activity.
But the increase is only apparent as compared with the normal
state. There is present a restless mobility, but the systematic
co-ordination of motor process is impaired and tends gradually

* Dumas, Les EtaU intelUctueh dans la Melancolie, p. i6 ff.

Conation and Cognitive Synthesis. 109

to disappear. The patient becomes less and less capable of
delicate motor adjustment, and more and more the prey of
vehement and disconnected impulses. His mental state is
exactly correspondent to this. The flow of ideas is abnor-
mally varied and rapid, but it is also abnormally incoherent.
Its ease and rapidity are due to the fact that it is not restricted
within definite channels by the sustained pursuit of definite
ends. The play of association proceeds with ease and rapidity
because the central control due to noetic synthesis is impaired
or absent. Action is due to momentary impulse, not the result
of deliberation. The patient cannot persist in the same occupa-
tion ; " he cannot stay at home, or mind his own business ; he
pays visits without a motive, he gesticulates, he perorates, he
shows himself indiscreet, over-expansive, and injudiciously
generous ; he forms a thousand projects, which he imparts to
every one whom he meets." ^ Now, though the state here de-
scribed is in reality one in which mental power is seriously
impaired, yet the patient himself is conscious mainly of
increased freedom and facility. This defines itself on the
intellectual side by his sanguine view of things, his anticipa-
tions of triumph and success on all sides, and his increased
sense of his own importance. Perhaps, however, the chief
lesson taught by such instances is to be found in the co-
incidence of cognitive inco-ordination, and conative inco-ordina-
tion. Disconnected impulse takes the place of the sustained
pursuit of ends, and the play of association displaces noetic
synthesis. These are only two ways of describing the same
concrete fact.

Mental pathology throughout its whole range supplies abun-
dant illustration of the inseparable unity of conative and
cognitive process. This side of the question has been worked
out by M. Godfemeaux in an interesting way, and we may refer
the reader to his book for further detail.

1 Godferneaux, Lt Sentiment et la Pensee, p. 2.

CHAPTER VIII.
APPERCEPTION.

I I. Explanation of the Term.

Under the term apperception are included all such processes
as understanding, interpreting, identifying, subsuming, etc.
It is used to indicate one feature which these processes have
in common. In all of them a presentation acquires a certain
significance for thought by connecting itself with some mental
preformation as this has been organised in the course of pre-
vious experience. Hence apperception has been defined by
Steinthal as " the union of two mental groups in so far as it
gives rise to a cognition ". As this definition implies, both
groups may give and receive significance on equal terms.
This depends entirely on the degree of organisation which
each has already acquired. If one of them, A^ has a relatively
high degree of that systematic unity, which noetic synthesis
gives, and the other, B, more nearly approaches the condition
of a mere anoetic manifold, then A may be said, in a special
sense, to be appercipient, and B to be apperceived. Some
admirable illustrations of this are given, for another purpose,
by Dr. Stirling : " When, one morning, the day broke, and all
unexpectedly before their eyes a ship stood, what it was was
evident at a glance to Crusoe. . . . But how was it with
Friday? As younger and uncivilised, his eyes were presum-
ably better than those of his master. That is, Friday saw the

ship really the best of the two ; and yet he could hardly be

(no)

Apperception. 1 1 1

said to see it at all. ... In short, what to Crusoe was an
object, was to Friday only a dark and amorphous blur, a per-
plexing, confusing, frightening mass of details, which would
not collapse and become single and simple to him." ^ " Has it
never happened to the reader to lie in a strange bedroom, and
to puzzle himself in the morning about some distant object
which he was conscious he had known perfectly well the night
before, but which he could not put together for the life of him
now ? It is an object on a shelf, peeping out of a cupboard
(say) : what is it ? What a strange-looking object it is ! A
formless detail of many perceptive [anoetic] particulars, an
incomprehensible plurality of parts ; but what is it ? Ah ! a
candlestick, a family Bible, a bandbox, a general's battered
hat, etc. The moment you recollect what you had recognised
it to be, the moment the notion attaches itself, all is plain ; and
yet you are not a bit nearer, and see {qua seeing) not a bit
clearer than before."- Instances in which the two mental
groups mutually communicate significance to each other on
equal terms are abundant in the higher processes of thought.
Thus, the discovery of gravitation took place through a conflu-
ence of the mental system representing what was known of
terrestrial gravity, and the system representing what was
known of the motion of the heavenly bodies. A simpler
example is supplied by the process of comparison, in which
the idea of each of the objects observed apperceives the idea
of the other. These mutual apperceptions usually form part
of a wider process. The apperception of each group by the
other subserves the apperception of both of them by a more
comprehensive system. It is not, however, necessary that
this should be the case. Each of the groups may, in one re-
spect, be regarded as more comprehensive, and, therefore, as
appercipient, and in another respect as more special, and,

» Text-book to Kant, p. 54. * Ibid , pp. 54-55.

1 1 2 Analytic Psychology.

therefore, as apperceived. In the example quoted, the system
representing terrestrial gravity was more special, inasmuch as
it referred to a comparatively limited portion of the physical
world. It was more general, inasmuch as it referred to a
mode of the interaction of bodies conceivably applicable to
the whole material world.

It will be seen from this account that the process of apper-
ception substantially coincides with that of attention. The
difference lies in the point of view. The attention-process, as
we saw (bk, ii., ch. ii., p. 185 ff.), is characterised by systematic
unity and relative novelty. Under the head apperception we are
especially concerned with the relation of the new to the old,
in so far as it gives rise to modifications of the old. We con-
sider the whole process as one by which the mind grows. As
Mr. Shand remarks, attention has a ** cumulative effect on its
own process". Each act of attention leaves behind it "a
kind of deposit . . . which is taken up and utilised by
succeeding acts," and " ever grows with the growth of our
attentive experience "} Now this cumulative effect of atten-
tion on its own process is precisely what is meant by apper-
ception. In the doctrine of apperception we consider how
attention becomes progressively modified by retention, how
the products of past process determine and are determined by
succeeding changes. From this point of view apperception
may be defined as the process by which a mental system appro-
priates a new element, or otherwise receives a fresh determina-
tion. When an unsuccessful attempt is made to identify,
classify, interpret, etc., there is a failure to appropriate new
elements ; but this very failure is itself a fresh determination
of the apperceptive system. The word appropriate is used
in order to indicate that the system makes the new element its
own. The need for the apperceptive process and the stimulus

* hlind^ N.S., No. 12, p. 463.

Apperception. 113

to it lies in the initially foreign and alien nature of the new
element, and the consequent antithesis between its disturbing
novelty and the internal self-development of the system. The
end of the process is to annul this antithesis. The new element
appropriated by the appercipient system is not to be confused
with the whole mental group which is apperceived. The two
coincide only in cases of subsumption of the particular under
the general. But these cases constitute only a special class of
apperceptions. For the most part, the appropriated element
is only a part or aspect of the apperceived system. This is well
seen in those metaphors which control the growth of language,
and constitute what is called the inner speech-form. " I ap-
prehend " means originally " I grasp," i.e., "lay hold on with
my hands ". The first person who said " I apprehend your
meaning," merely said " I grasp or lay hold on your meaning
as with hands". Now when this metaphor first occurred, it
was an apperceptive process taking place between the mental
group representing understanding and the mental group repre-
senting prehension. But neither of these groups became
embodied in the other ; the result was rather that they came
to interpenetrate each other at a certain point, in respect of
the common relation which both involved, — a relation which
would never have become a distinct content of either, apart
from the apperceptive process.

In almost every moment of waking life an apperceptive
process is taking place. Whenever an object is attended to,
the presentation of it is apperceived. Those aspects of the
presentation which are congruent with the appercipient system
acquire special significance. Others remain outside the sphere
of the attention-process. The physician will at a glance
detect in a patient symptoms which have escaped the anxious
scrutiny of friends and relatives. The reason for this certainly
does not lie in the greater intensity of his interest. He is

able to note v^hat they fail to note, because in his mind an
VOL. IX. S

114 Analytic Psychology.

apperceptive system has been organised, which they do not
possess.

An important distinction between attention and appercep-
tion is that, whereas attention is an attitude of consciousness
towards a presented object, apperception is merely a process
of interaction between presentations or dispositions. The ap-
prehension of an object is to be regarded as a result of this
process. Thus we may freely follow Herbartian terminology
in speaking of ideas apperceiving each other, without falling
into the Herbartian paradox according to which they observe
or take cognisance of each other. As vital process compre-
hends in a higher synthesis physical and chemical changes,
so the systematic activity which we call apperception compre-
hends in a higher synthesis the elementary process of simple
suggestion, relative suggestion, conflict, etc. Apperceptive
activity involves a systematic combination of these elementary
processes. Indeed, its main value is that it enables us to knit
together in their natural unity the separate threads of psycho-
logical theory, and to include in a single view the various
aspects and elements of mental process which would otherwise
only be treated of in distinct chapters.

In the whole of the succeeding discussion the reader is
requested to bear in mind the result of our last chapter.
Apperception is conative process. A mental group or system
is a grouped or systematised tendency, and the union of such
groups or systems is the confluence of different modes of
mental activity. It is needful to say this, because the
familiar Herbartian treatment of apperception is apt to
suggest a notion that the presentations concerned in it are
distinct and independent agents, instead of being special
modifications of the general current of conscious life.

§ 2. Mental Systems.

The kind of combination signified by the term systems
essentially involves noetic synthesis. A system is systematic

Apperception. 1 1 5

in so far as its constituents are partial apprehensions of one
and the same whole, so that their relation to each other is
conditioned by their relation to the central idea of this whole.
The whole itself is nearly always presented in the way of
implicit or schematic apprehension. To say nothing of other
difficulties, the narrowness of consciousness forbids that it
should, at any given moment, be presented in the fulness of
its details. Hence a mental system, even when it enters into
conscious process, always remains to a very large extent
beneath the threshold of consciousness. Yet, owing to its
organisation, the unconscious dispositions emerge into con-
sciousness as they are required, under the central control of
noetic synthesis. " Thus," to take an illustration from Hume,
" should we mention the word triangle, and form the idea
[image] of a particular equilateral one to correspond to it, and
should we afterwards assert that the three angles of a triangle
are equal to each other, the other individuals of a scalenum and
isosceles, which we overlooked at first, immediately crowd in
upon us, and make us perceive the falsehood of this proposition,
though it be true with relation to that idea which we had
formed."^ It should be added that the more fully and
familiarly we are acquainted with the meaning of the word
triangle, the less likely we are to make the initial mistake
referred to by Hume, because the noetic synthesis not merely
tends to call into consciousness the constituents of the system
which it unifies, according as they are required for the
purposes of thought, or, what is the same thing, of apperceptive
process ; it also represents the system as a whole, more or less
perfectly. In one way or the other, the central idea discharges
a vicarious function ; it stands for the whole system, much as
the constituted authorities in a society may represent the whole
society. The official representatives of the society in the

* Treatise on Human Nature, bk. i., part i., sect. vii.

ii6 Analytic Psychology.

discharge of their function, may or may not find it needful to
enforce their authority ; and this holds good also in the
psychological analogue.

In general, the analogy between mental and social organi-
sations is a fruitful and instructive one ; it has been well
worked out by M. Paulhan : " Undoubtedly the ultimate
element of the social organism is the individual man — but
between the individual and the whole, there are various
smaller organisations, various systems of a less complex com-
position, which severally play their distinctive parts in the life
of the whole. These minor groups are, in the strict sense,
elements of society, each having its specific tendencies,
opinions, desires, passions, which combine or conflict, and so
give to the whole in which they are united, an aspect of unity
or of incoherence, according to the nature of their mutual
relations. In psychology we find secondary combinations of
an analogous kind — syntheses of simpler elements, entering in
their turn into the composition of higher syntheses, and into
the general life of the mind." ^ The same man belongs at
once to his political party, to his church, to his family, to his
club, to his trade or profession, and so forth. He is thus
connected with a multiplicity of separate social groups, each
having its own distinctive aim and function, and its own
appropriate mode of organisation. To each of these distinct
social relations, there corresponds in his own mind a distinct
group of psychical elements. These are subordinate com-
ponents of his general mental organisation, just as the various
minor social systems are subordinate components of the
general organisation of society. Similar mental groups tend
to grow up in connection with each of the special aspects of
his experience. To understand the meaning of a word, to
identify or classify a perceived object, to plan a consistent

^L'Activite MentaU,

Apperception, 117

course of action — are all mental processes which involve the
existence of groups of ideas, having severally a certain
systematic unity.

The analogy between mental and social organisation may
be carried further. In so far as a man actually participates in
the special activity of any one of the social systems to which
he belongs, he is, for the time being, debarred from taking part
in the special activity of the other co-ordinate systems, as well
as from asserting his own independence. Brutus, in his office
of magistrate, ceases to be a father. In like manner, mental
elements, which share in the activity of one mental system, are
for the time disabled from acting either in any other syste-
matic combination or independently. When we are engrossed
in writing or speaking about some serious topic, it does not
occur to us, unless we are inveterate punsters, to play upon the
words we use. When we are interested in a game of billiards,
the idea of the billiard balls does not set us thinking about the
trade in ivory and African slavery.

On the dissolution of a mental system, whether brought
about by pathological conditions or otherwise, its several
components begin in their isolation to display the tendencies
which their combination had suppressed. Mental anarchy in
this respect resembles social anarchy. When a social organi-
sation is broken up, its component groups or its component
individuals do severally what is right in their own eyes. So,
too, when a mental organisation is dissolved, its elements
become free to act independently. Aphasic patients, for whom
language has ceased to be an instrument of thought, sometimes
show a strong tendency to string words together in a con-
nection determined merely by alliteration, assonance, etc.
In certain phases of the hypnotic trance, and in some other
pathological states, mental systems act in abnormal isolation
from each other, giving rise to beliefs and conduct which
would be impossible to the subject in his normal condition.

ii8 Analytic Psychology.

Similar results may be brought about in manifold ways. The
inverse happens when a number of groups, which have
previously existed in relative detachment from each other,
become combined in systematic unity. The action of each
becomes limited by their union, as the liberty of individuals is
restricted by their combination in an organised society. Thus,
Darwin's passion for miscellaneous collecting became re-
stricted in its range when it was subordinated to a great
scientific purpose.

§ 3. Apperception and Assimilation.

Most writers, who treat of apperception on Herbarttan
lines, distinguish between two forms of the process. In some
cases, they say, what takes place is mere fusion of a given
presentation with the revived residuum of a past presentation
of identical quality. In others, either the apperceived or the
appercipient group, or both, become modified by their
combination. Now no such distinction is admissible from our
point of view. Apperception, for us, involves the activity of
an apperceptive system as a whole ; but no conditions can
bring into play such a system, unless they tend to change its
constitution, or in some way to make a difference to it.
Wherever attention is present, some kind or degree of syste-
matic readjustment is involved. Where attention is not
present, there is no apperception, but mere assimilation.
There is no apperception because there is no noetic synthesis.
Assimilation there must always be, inasmuch as the existence
of a given experience coincides with the re-excitement of some
preformed disposition. Thus, in automatic actions, the im-
pressions which guide us are all assimilated, but not apper-
ceived. Whenever through habitual exercise, an organised
group of psychical dispositions has become so preconformed
to a special class of familiar experiences, that it assimilates

Apperception. 119

them with a certain degree of ease and rapidity, apperception
becomes needless. There is the less need for it the more
perfect is the mental preadjustment. Unless there is some
difficulty to be overcome, mere assimilation, association, and
relative suggestion can of themselves fulfil the office of
apperception. Where there is nothing for it to do, its inter-
vention would, in most cases, be a hindrance instead of a
help, because the act of attending would occupy more time
than the assimilative and associative process occupies by itself.
For the most part, the perceptions of size, shape, and distance
depend on processes of relative suggestion which are in-
dependent of apperception, except in the early stages of
mental development in which we are still learning to appre-
hend sensible things, by means of sight, touch, and hearing.
In the developed mind, the whole process takes place with so
unfailing a celerity and facility that there is no occasion and
no opportunity for the interposition of attention. If attention
does intervene, it is because some feature of the perceived
object is obscure or doubtful. Apart from this, ordinary
sensible objects excite apperceptive process only in so far as
they are connected with some wider interest — only when the
product of the perceptual process enters into relation with a
more comprehensive mental system, which strives to incor-
porate it, but which can only do so with comparative slowness
and hesitancy.

In general, mere assimilation only involves attention in so
far as it constitutes an integral part of a more comprehensive
process which is not purely assimilative. We may illustrate
this by a case given by Steinthal, which he appears to us to
interpret erroneously. " Suppose that we are looking for a
key in a bunch of keys or for a letter in a bundle of letters.
We take into our hands one letter after another, one key after
another, and h Id them before our eyes The image of the
object we are seeking is thus confronted with the several per-

I20 Analytic Psychology.

ceptions as they arise. It apperceives them. All depends on
whether the image of the key or letter actually presented blends
with the image of the key or letter we are in quest of. If it
does so blend, the object is found. If it fails to blend, it is not
what we are looking for. In the former case there is positive,
in the latter negative, apperception. * This is not it ; this also
is not it ; nor this ; but this is.' " ^ Now here apperception is
represented as consisting in mere coalescence, or in mere
failure to coalesce. But a little reflection will show that this
is an utterly inadequate representation of the process. Sup-
pose that the key is one which we habitually use every morn-
ing to open a certain door, and that it habitually occupies its
familiar place in a certain pocket ; then, so long as things go
smoothly, we do not notice the key at all ; we simply take it
and put it into the lock and open the door, while our mind is
preoccupied with other matters. In this, there is no definite
attention, and consequently no apperception. But there is a
whole group of fusions. The renewed experience of door and
key every morning, coincides with the revival of previous
similar experiences. Apperception, however, is absent, because
it has no function to fulfil. Suppose, now, that some morning
we put our hand into our pocket and find no key there ; in-
stantly we attend to the key and to our need of it. But the
mental picture of the key, if it is formed at all, is, at the
outset, not appercipient but apperceived. The apperceptive
system is that connected with our delayed and interrupted
morning's work. This is the beginning of an apperceptive
process which only reaches its completion in the finding of the
key. The continuation of the process may, as in Steinthal's
example, involve a search among a bunch of keys ; there then
follows, as he says, a series of negative apperceptions, ending
in a positive one. But throughout the successive rejections,

* PsycJtologie tind Sprachwissenschaff, p. 208.

Apperception . 121

and in the final identification, the mental picture of the lost
key is not by itself the apperceptive system, but only a part
of it. The failures to identify, as they follow one another,
may make no difference to our mental picture : but they do
make a difference to the general purpose and interest of our
search. So, when identification does ensue, it is no mere
fusion of image and percept which constitutes it ; when we
say, " This is it," we do not merely mean, " This is the key I
pictured," we mean, " This is the key I wanted ". Our know-
ledge of the appearance of the key may receive no extension
or modification ; what we gain as the result of the apperceptive
process is the knowledge that we actually possess the key and
the power to use it for our purpose. It is because in this
respect it makes a difference to us, that an apperceptive
process takes place at all.

Perhaps this will become clearer if we consider appercep-
tion from a teleological point of view. It is the process by
which a conation fulfils itself But conation only exists in so
far as it is unsatisfied. The sight of food awakens no desire
after a full meal. Similarly, apperception does not take place
where there is no end to be attained which cannot be attained
as well or better without it.

§ 4. Connective Arrangements.

When a mental operation of any complexity takes place as
a merely assimilative process, the possibility of it depends
upon previous apperceptions. These leave behind them a
phycho-physical arrangement which can operate of itself
without the intervention of attention. We have partly shown
how this is brought about, in discussing the formation of
Habit ; but our account of the matter is not yet adequate.
We have shown how mere association gradually displaces
and ultimately supplants noetic synthesis, but there are facts
which unmistakably indicate that, at least in some instances,

122 Analytic Psychology.

if not in all, assimilative process cannot be reduced to the
mere play of association and relative suggestion. Even
when the controlling guidance of a central thought ceases to
operate as a unifying principle, it may leave behind it as a
substitute a nervous arrangement which fulfils an analogous
function independently of consciousness. Attention has been
recently called to facts which bear out this statement, in an
article by Von Kries.^ He calls the modifications of the
psycho-physical mechanism, which play this quasi-apperceptive
part, connective cerebral arrangements. His first and most
striking example is derived from the use of different systems
of musical notation. In reading music, the significance of the
symbols, throughout the entire score, is determined by the clef
which is prefixed to it. Each note is indicated by a mark on
one of five parallel lines, and each line stands for a note two
degrees higher than the line below it. But this relation of
value is all that is fixed for musical notation in general ; all

else depends upon the clef. Thus the sign —f— stands in

one clef for d^ in another for h^ and so forth. The expert
reader first notices the clef, and then proceeds to read without
further consideration of it, and without difficulty. Here one
and the same sign calls up the ideas of different notes, and
this depends on a modification of the psycho-physical
mechanism, which is produced by the preceding perception of
the clef, and which continues after this transient perception
has ceased. This connective arrangement, which controls the
process of associative suggestion, cannot be explained away by
reducing it to conditions which enter into the series ot
presentations. Certainly, the thought of the clef does not
persist through the entire process of reading. It m.ay be

1 " Uber die Natur gewisser mit den psychischen Vorgangen verkniipf-
ter Gehirnzustande," Zeiischri/t fiir Psychologic und Physiologic dcr Siimes-
organs, Bd. viii.. Heft i und 2.

Apperception. 123

suggested that the immediately precedent combination of
symbol and note in each case determines the interpretation of
the next symbol. But this view seems to be disposed of when
we consider : (i) That the correct system of interpretation
persists over comparatively long intervals of time, during
which no notes are read, and no clef thought of ; (2) That,
in many cases, the new note is not mentally connected with
the old, but read independently of it.

The question next arises, how far these connective arrange-
ments are involved in assimilative process generally. It is
difficult to suppose that the above instance is peculiar and
isolated. We should rather expect that, if apperception in
this case creates and leaves behind it a surrogate of itself, it
will do so in all cases, or at least in all of similar complexity.
Many of the further illustrations adduced by Von Kries are
not relevant, for they involve apperception. Perhaps the best
which he gives is the different psycho-physical attitudes
involved in speaking different languages. There is a con-
nective pre-arrangement for English, another for French,
another for German. If we can speak a language fluently, the
consciousness that we are speaking it is usually absent. When
we have to pass from one language to another, it is certainly
present at the outset. But a few days in a foreign country is
sufficient to lead us to speak the foreign tongue, as a matter
of course, without noticing that we are doing so. Thus the
same occasions which, under the control of one connective
arrangement, would call a certain series of verbal signs, under
the influence of another call up an entirely different series.

Other examples of a similar kind will readily occur to the
reader ; but even apart from cases in which the presence of a
connective arrangement can be distinctly proved by special
considerations, it is clear that, in general, they fill up a lacuna
in our explanation of automatic process. They account for
the fixed and definite way in which the series of associative

124 Analytic Psychology.

suggestions is circumscribed within precise limits, to the exclu-
sion of diverging and disturbing tendencies. Hence it is best
generally to assume that connective arrangement is involved,
if not in all merely assimilative processes, at least in the more
complex.

§ 5. Serial Evolution of Apperceptive Systems.

An apperceptive process may be the affair of a moment, or
it may be prolonged for hours, or even for years ; but whether
it be brief or protracted, the point of contact between an apper-
ceptive system and that which it apperceives lies in perceptual
or mental imagery. In momentary apperception, perhaps a
single image may be sufficient. But this is a limiting case,
which probably never literally occurs. Consider such a simple
instance as that of our meeting an unknown person in the
street, and taking notice of him because he is unusually tall.
Here it might, at first sight, seem as if the single perception
were enough, without any succession of images. But, in fact,
it is not ordinarily so. We look hard at the man ; we scan
his proportions ; all this involves a succession of ocular move-
ments with a corresponding series of perceptions. Where an
apperceptive process is more prolonged, it clearly always
involves what English psychologists are in the habit of calling
a mental train. This train may be either ideal or perceptual,
or both combined. In the instance just given, it is merely
perceptual. In guessing a riddle, it is merely ideal. In all
prolonged observation, as distinct from casual attention to
perceived objects, it is at once ideal and perceptual.

Now the train of images, through which apperception takes
place, is simultaneously determined by both of the factors
which enter into the process. It is the evolution of the
apperceptive system itself — the successive presentations of the
parts and aspects of the whole — which is schematically

Apperception, 125

apprehended. On the other hand, this evolution is initially
conditioned, and is throughout modified, by the new material
which is being incorporated into the system. Thus we cannot
regard either factor in the process, in any stage of it, as
exclusively passive, or as exclusively active. We must here
guard against an error into which such men as Herbart and
Volkmann have fallen. They divide the whole process into
two stages. In the first of these the apperceptive system is
said to be passive. Those constituents of it which are
contrary in quality to the new presentations are momentarily
repressed ; but soon the mental preformation reasserts itself
against this disturbance. The strength which it derives from
its internal organisation enables it to obscure and suppress
opposing elements in the apperceived group, and the final
outcome is that this group becomes incorporated with it. It
is admitted that sometimes the inverse takes place ; and that
the incorporation involves destructive transformation of the
pre-established system. But in any case it seems to be taken
for granted that the suppression of antagonising elements is an
essential part of the process by which the two mental groups
blend into unity. Now there are certainly facts which
coitespond to the Herbartian description. It often happens
that we see what we expect or desire to see, instead of what is
present to our eyes, as, e.g., in correcting proofs. We have
already discussed cases of this kind under the head Coalescence.
Further illustrations, from more complex regions of our
mental life, are afforded by the blinding influence of pre-
conceived theory, or of hardened prejudice. But the real
question is whether coalescence, as such, can be properly
regarded as belonging to the essence of apperception. If this
were so, then apperception would be, by its very nature, a
source of illusion and error. But it seems clear that in so far
as one of the interacting groups simply annuls or suppresses
elements in the other, it fails to apperceive it, and apperceives

126 Analytic Psychology.

something else instead. In so far as a preconceived theory
blinds a man to a fact, he fails to apply his theory to the fact ;
it is not in this way that the mind develops. The growth of
the mental organisation requires that new and old fairly
confront each other ; and, if need be, evolve themselves in
consciousness in relatively distinct series.

Wherever the process is so complex as to involve serial
evolution, two lines of suggestion are theoretically present.
Where there is apparently only one, it should be regarded as a
limiting case, in which the two series coincide. Of course the
final outcome of a positive apperception is always the con-
fluence of the two trains in a single one. This confluence
may be brought about in different ways. But in general it is
the result of relative suggestion. The evolution of one or
both systems becomes gradually so modified by its relation to
the other that the two become congruent and blend. Ordinary
observation, with the view of identifying or classifying an
object, or of verifying an hypothesis, clearly exhibits the two-
fold mental train and its ultimate simplification. On the one
hand, both in scientific and ordinary observation, there is
always ideal anticipation based on past experience, side by
side with the actual series of perceptions. Each of these trains
profoundly modifies the other. The order of the perceptual
process, and the direction which it takes at any moment, are
throughout determined by our own mental prospectiveness
and laciincB, in the perceptual data, are constructively filled in
by ideal activity. On the other hand, the series of ideal
anticipations has perpetually to adapt and readapt itself to the
unforeseen data which emerge as the object is more fully
explored. When the whole process goes on within the sphere
of ideas, there is no essential difference in the course which it
takes. The only distinction is that the role played in actual
observation by sense-perception is now wholly transferred to
associative reproduction and relative suggestion.

Apperception. 127

Sometimes the apperceptive process serves only to bring out
the needlessness of ideal reconstruction. Thus a person who
for the first time sees a black swan, and whose whole previous
experience has led him to expect swans to be white, will gaze
at first in wonder, and will need time to reconcile himself to
the novelty. But in apperceiving the new experience, he has
no need to make a special reconstruction of his general idea of
a swan ; on the contrary, the process consists in his gradually
realising that all the distinctive features of a swan remain
unmodified by the difference in colour. Relative suggestion
is here not really absent, but its function consists almost
entirely in setting in a new light the single feature of colour, in
bringing out the looseness of its relation to the group of
essentially connected marks distinctive of a swan. In any
case, it is absurd to say that the colour difference is simply
suppressed or annulled. On the contrary, it becomes in the
highest degree salient in consciousness, and the entire issue of
the process is to cause it to be regarded in a new way. If,
instead of seeing a black swan for the first time, a person is
told of the existence of black swans, he may not succeed in
perfectly apperceiving the new mental combination. If he
does so, it will be by calling to mind experiences of colour
variation taking place independently of other variations in
plants and animals, or in reminding himself of the conditions
which determine colour, and the looseness of their connection
with the general plan of structure and function.

A more positive and complex construction is required
when a person is, for the first time, called upon to represent
the whale as an air-breathing animal, or to realise the idea of
Antipodes.

§ 6. Apperception and Fixation.

If we except possible vaso-motor changes in the brain,
movements of fixation do not directly affect appercipient

128 Analytic Psychology.

systems as such. They strengthen and detain, or weaken and
dismiss, particular percepts or images. Their function is,
therefore, limited to the sequent parts of the train, in which an
apperceptive system develops itself. Without them this serial
evolution would be impossible, because without them a
definite sequence of images either could not take place at all,
or could not be controlled so as to subserve the purposes of
thought. Thus the act of fixation may be compared to the
act of prehension by which an animal seizes and retains its
prey until it has consumed it. The movement of fixation
fastening upon the image or percept, detains and detaches it in
the focus of consciousness, so long as is required for that stage
of the apperceptive process which it subserves.

It is the peculiarity of that class of images to which the
signs of language belong, that they make it possible to intro-
duce into the train of ideas, as separate and successive links,
mental systems which would otherwise be merely apperceptive.
On this function of verbal signs the development of conceptual
thinking is in a very large measure dependent. We shall
have to recur to this point in detail in chap. ix.

§ 7. Co-operation and Competition of Apperceptive

Systems.

In so far as the mind is a unity, it tends to become affected,
as a whole, by changes taking place in any of its component
elements. For this reason, an appercipient system tends to
excite other systems in a degree varying directly with the
intimacy of its connection with them. The apperceptive
activity of one group communicates to others a wave of
excitation by which they are prepared to become in their
turn appercipient. They are by this means rendered alert
and ready to act so soon as occasion arises. This process by
which a mental group in the exercise of its apperceptive

Apperception. 129

function prompts others to a similar activity, is what I call
Co-operation.

On the other hand, every mental group, in the exercise of
its apperceptive function, tends to debar all other groups from
becoming appercipient, excepting such as are at the moment
capable of combining with it the same systematic activity.
This follows, in part, from the very nature of an apperceptive
system. Elements which are united in the same apperceptive
process are ipso facto disabled, for the time being, from taking
part in any other. Otherwise the word system would have no
meaning. A mental group cannot, therefore, become appercip-
ient, if some of its essential constituents enter also into the
composition of a different group which is in full action at the
time. Another ground of competition between mental systems
is to be found in the quantitative limitation of the total mental
activity in each moment. In proportion as mental energy is
engrossed by one group, other groups are enfeebled. If in
the course of our thoughts we come upon some topic of
extraordinary interest, we often suspend even the automatic
movements which depend on conditions disconnected with
the main stream of mental process — we cease walking or eat-
ing, or let our cigar go out.

The nature of co-operation and of competition may be
illustrated by the interaction of co-ordinate groups, which are
subordinated in an analogous manner to a single compre-
hensive system. A system so organised may apperceive in a
twofold way according to the nature of the apperceived
group. It may assimilate the new element in a general
manner without incorporating it in any one of the subordinate
groups. On the other hand, the new element may by the
same act be incorporated in the total system and in one of
the sub-groups. I may see that an object, at a distance, is a
bird, without being able to discern what kind of bird it is. In

this case the object is apperceived by the class-group, repre-
VOL. II. 9

130 Analytic Psychology.

sented by the term bird. But it is not apperceived by any of
the minor groups, represented by the terms thrush, blackbird,
etc., except in so far as these necessarily take part in the
systematic activity of the whole to which they belong. When
the object approaches nearer, I may be able to discern not
only that it is a bird, but that it is a thrush. This means that
it is apperceived by one of the co-ordinate sub-groups to the
exclusion of the others. It is incorporated not only by the
total appercipient system, but by a specialised portion of that
system. The co-ordinate sub-groups compete with each
other, because they can exercise their distinctive functions
only in exclusive alternation. They co-operate with each other
because they are all integral parts of one system. Each of
them, in so far as it shares in the general excitation of the
whole in which it is contained, becomes prepared to play its
own proper part so soon as occasion arises. Thus, when I see
the bird in the distance, the various sub-groups, corresponding
to different species of birds, become excited, and the excitation
of each sustains and heightens that of the rest. Each is on
the alert to exercise its special apperceptive function, to the
exclusion of the others.

Examples of the co-operation of mental systems are con-
stantly occurring in ordinary experience. A person of a
religious turn of mind is prepared for devotional exercises
merely by entering a church. Another with a super-
stitious bias is predisposed to see ghosts by the mere
presence of darkness and solitude. If I meet with a
Latin word in reading a Latin book, I am not misled by
its accidental likeness to an English word, as I might
be, if I came upon it casually and unexpectedly. In a printing
establishment, the term proofs is likely to receive a different
interpretation from that which would be attached to it in a
polemical discussion. In such cases the apperceptive activity
of a comprehensive system maintains each of its component

Apperception. 131

sub-groups in a state of readiness to apperceive groups with
which they have special affinity. Co-operation is strongest
and most effective between groups which are thus inter-
connected according to an articulate plan as co-ordinate parts
of a highly organised whole. But it also takes place between
all groups which enter into the composition of the mind
in a greater or less degree, according to the greater or less
intimacy of their interconnection.

Competition is a trial of strength between competing systems.
Co-operation is one of the main conditions on which their
comparative strength depends. In so far as an appercipient
system transmits a wave of excitation to other systems, it
strengthens them even against itself. It follows that, ceteris
paribus, the power of an ideal group to compete with others
increases as the degree in which it co-operates with them
diminishes. In some cases co-operation is the predominant
condition determining the comparative strength of competing
sub-groups, and it affects these sub-groups in an approximately
equal degree. When this is so, the reason why one becomes
appercipient in preference to the others lies mainly in its greater
affinity with the group to be apperceived. But co-operation is
by no means the only circumstance on which the power of an
apperceptive system depends. In the following section we
shall have to consider a number of other conditions determin-
ing the comparative readiness, energy, and persistence with
which different mental groups exercise their apperceptive
function. These conditions, combined with the influence of
co-operation, determine, ceteris paribus, which of a number of
competing groups shall succeed in becoming appercipient.
When a plurality of objects, each having exclusive affinity
with a different system of ideas, are simultaneously presented
to the senses, or suggested by the train of association, that
group is apperceived which is congruent with the most power-
ful system. Similarly, when the same group is capable of

132 Analytic Psychology.

being incorporated by different systems, the strongest of them
apperceives it. If they apperceive it in turn, they do so in the
order of their relative strength. We have now to indicate the
conditions on which this difference in the power of mental
systems depends.

§ 8. Conditions Determining the Strength of
Apperceptive Systems.

The most fundamental of these is the strength of the
practical or theoretical conation which the system serves to
define and determine. On this depends the tendency of an
interrupted process of apperception to recommence even with-
out external prompting. If such a process has been cut
short without reaching its natural termination, the disposition
which it leaves behind it corresponds to an unsatisfied striving,
and such strivings, as we have seen (bk. ii., ch. vii.), tend to
renew themselves in consciousness so soon as they cease to
be suppressed by other excitations.

The more special circumstances which favour apperceptive
activity may be roughly divided into those which are extrinsic,
and those which are inherent in the construction of the
apperceptive system itself. Both groups of conditions include
special cases of the influence of conation, but they cannot be
entirely brought under this head. The extrinsic consist in
passing circumstances which from time to time may favour
the activity of a system. Among these latter are included :
(i) The co-operation of another system ; (2) the recency, or

(3) the intensity of its own previous action ; (4) the influence
of organic sensation ; (5) its own freshness arising from
previous repose. The intrinsic conditions are: (i) The
comprehensiveness of the system ; (2) its internal organisa-
tion ; (3) the strength of the cohesion between its parts ;

(4) the nature of the sensor\- material which enters pre-
dominantly into its composition.

Apperception. 133

I have already treated of the influence of co-operation, and
I shall have more to say concerning it in § 9. Its effect is
greatly modified by other conditions. Through it apperceptive
groups are stimulated to become appercipient ; but they
respond to the stimulus only so far as they are excitable, and
their excitability depends on other causes.

An apperceptive system is, apart from fatigue, more prompt
to apperceive the more recently it has been brought into play.
Ceteris paribus, the mental group which is appercipient in one
moment will also be appercipient in the next. Being already
in action, it tends to continue in action. Further, the state of
excitation into which a system is thrown by the exercise of
its apperceptive functions, tends to persist afterwards. It is
only by a gradual process that the system sinks into its
previous condition of comparative inertness. When we are
absorbed in the consideration of some interesting topic, any
circumstance which diverts our attention from it usually
occasions only a transient interruption. So soon as the
disturbance ceases, our thoughts pursue their former course, as
if they had never been arrested in it.

The effect of intensity is ordinarily most conspicuous when
it is combined with that of recency. An apperceptive group
which has been both recently and intensely excited is apt to
assume for some time a tyrannical predominance over com-
petitors otherwise more powerful than itself We all know
how difficult it is to dismiss from our minds, permanently and
completely, a subject about which we have been recently very
much excited. A game of chess which has roused a keen
interest in us, is likely for some hours afterwards to recur to
our thoughts, even in the midst of more important occupations.
Certain pathological cases furnish very striking instances, in
which the effect of intense excitement is greatly exaggerated
and prolonged — sometimes permanently. " A lady frightened
by robbers takes all men she sees for brigands who mean to

134 Analytic Psychology.

assassinate her ; another, having seen her child knocked down
by a horse, cannot be persuaded that it is living, by any
arguments, or even by the sight of it, although it is quite
well."i

The influence of the coenaesthesis on the relative strength of
apperceptive systems is of fundamental importance. The
ideas connected with the satisfaction of an organic need
commonly assume exclusive predominance so soon as the
corresponding organic sensation is felt with a certain degree of
intensity. The pangs of hunger will ordinarily cut short the
most absorbing train of abstract speculation. The influence of
varying modifications of the coenaesthesis is, however, by no
means confined to simple cases of this kind. It pervades our
whole mental life. Every specific kind of emotion is accom-
panied by a characteristic mode of organic reaction. The
resulting systemic sensations form a most important constituent
of the emotion itself, and they become intimately associated
with the apperceptive system which is dominant when the
emotion is felt. A recurrence of a similar organic state, from
whatever cause it may arise, will tend to re-excite the
whole mental system with which it has thus become coherent.
The most striking illustrations of this point are to be found in
the psychological effects of sexual excitement. For an
excellent discussion of this topic I refer the reader to
M. Paulhan's book, pp. 458-476. The emotion of fear is
accompanied and in part occasioned by certain disturbances
of the heart's action, of respiration, etc. The occurrence of
somewhat similar disturbances in sleep will give rise to
terrifying dreams. In waking life they may give rise to
anticipations of danger and disaster which would never have
been entertained in a state of sound health. In like manner,
a low condition of body may colour our whole view of our own

1 L'ActiviU Mentak, p. 72 ; M. Paulhan gives many other illustrations.

Apperception. 135

circumstances, actions and prospects. It may cause us to
regard our past life as a failure and our future as full of
difficulty. On the other hand, a vigorous state of health
favours hopefulness and self-complacency. In early stages of
mental evolution, the relative strength of apperceptive systems
depends almost entirely on organic sensation. The first
differentiation of the mind into distinct systems depends on
the existence of distinct practical needs. As mental develop-
ment advances, other conditions acquire increasing importance.

The comparative freshness of an apperceptive system often
renders it more excitable than others which are in other
respects more powerful or equally so. Prolonged activity
occasions fatigue and necessitates a period of inaction, which
affords an opportunity for fresh groups to become appercipient.
We all know by familiar experience how much we stand in
need of recreative change. The more complete the change,
the more effective it is. A system enjoys adequate repose
only when it is displaced by others, which do not sub-excite
it too strongly by co-operation. Otherwise it is like a man
in troubled and unrefreshing sleep. It continues to be
indirectly excited, and therefore indirectly fatigued. The
recurrent effect of fatigue is noticeable even in the course of
what is ordinarily called a continuous train of thought.
Transient intermissions of activity, during which the mind
momentarily wanders to other topics, become from time to time
necessary. Short intervals of comparative repose restore the
excitability of the apperceptive system, which then re-assumes
its predominance — a predominance due in part to the very
intensity and recency of the activity which gives rise to
fatigue.

We must now consider the way in which the strength of
apperceptive groups is determined by their own internal
constitution. The excitability of a system of psychical
elements depends very largely on the degree of its inward

136 Analytic Psychology.

organisation. It is more easily stirred to activity, as a whole,
the more rapidly and completely the excitation of any one of
its components spreads to the rest. Now the rapidity of
diffusion within the system varies according to the general
plan of combination interconnecting its constituent parts.
The more manifold are the relations by which each element is
united with all the rest, the more completely, rapidly, and
certainly will the whole become implicated in the activity of
the part. This condition is best fulfilled by a symmetrical
scheme of interconnection, such that co-ordinate sub-groups
bear a similar relation to each other, and to the whole, and are
themselves composed of minor groups combined according to
an analogous plan. We may adduce, as an instance of a
system organised in this manner, the philosophy of Hegel as
it exists in the mind of the genuine Hegelian. The dialectic
process constitutes a general form of relation which permeates
the entire system, determining the connection both between
its most comprehensive divisions and between its most
specific details. Each part of the whole has a formal affinity
with every other, and it is, therefore, psychologically coherent
with every other. Each is thus a psychological, as well as a
logical, centre and rallying-point for the total system. I have
adduced this example because it seems to be a specially
striking one. But every logical system possesses a similar
psychological character in a greater or less degree, in pro-
portion as it approaches more or less perfectly to the logical
ideal.

The power of an apperceptive system depends on its
comprehensiveness as well as on its organisation. To revert
to the previous example, the dominating and pervasive influence
of the Hegelian system on the minds of its supporters is not
merely due to its inward coherence. Its width and breadth is
also to be taken into account. It touches reality at so many
points that there is scarcely a single problem, practical or theo-

Apperception. 137

retical, to which it is not apph'cable. But comprehensiveness is
not necessarily combined with inner articulation. A group of
political or religious prejudices, unconnected by any logical
principle of union, may derive predominant strength from its
mere massiveness. The lack of articulate plan is compensated
by the number of the elements which combine to excite and
sustain each other. We must also take into account, besides
the number and logical interdependence of the components of
a system, their mutual cohesion as established by habitual
association. This depends upon the frequency with which
the system is brought into action.

Finally, we must take into account the comparative
excitability of ideas derived from different senses. MM. Char-
cot and Ballet, following a clue given by Galton, have made us
familiar with the classification according to which different
persons are ranked as " visuals," " audiles," or " motiles ". The
visuals are those in whom visual images are most easily and
vividly reproducible. The audiles are those in whom presenta-
tions of sound are predominant. In the motiles, reproductions
of muscular experience have the greatest importance. These
distinctions have an important bearing on the present subject.
The dominance of a special mode of sensibility gives an
advantage in the struggle of competing systems to those in
which sensory presentations of the dominant kind play a
prominent part Great engineers are likely to be visuals,
great musicians audiles, and so forth.

Before quitting the subject, attention should be called to
the truism that apperceptive systems which are non-existent,
or practically so, cannot be operative. This is, as we have
said, a truism ; but it is one which has been frequently and
disastrously neglected. The unskilled teacher forces in-
struction upon the child and is angry or disheartened when
he finds no intelligent response, although he never considered
the previous question, whether the child already possesses the

138 Analytic Psychology.

mental organ for apprehending the facts or ideas which are
thrust upon him. The main principle which psychology lends
to the theory of education as its starting-point, is the need
that all communication of new knowledge should be a
development of previous knowledge. If the apperceptive
system necessary for incorporating a new fact or idea does
not exist, it must first be evolved before teaching can be
successful. It would seem that Socrates has the credit of
being the first to insist on this point. Another group of
instances of the neglect of this truism is to be found in the
unthinking surprise with which the man of culture often
regards what to him are the grotesque and absurd views of
the ignorant and superstitious, or with which the civilised
man regards the beliefs and practices of the savage. In
considering the state of the savage mind, the first point to be
remembered is that, in it, complex and comprehensive systems
of ideas, which are normally present in civilised races,
are simply absent ; savages can only apperceive with the
systems which they actually possess. Since these are mainly
connected with their own actions, and with their personal
relations, the anthropomorphic interpretation of nature
follows as a matter of course. The American Indian,
introduced for the first time into a great centre of
civilisation, shows little interest, beyond perhaps a vague
bewilderment, in most of the objects which would generally
be thought likely to absorb his mind in wondering admiration.
His attention is most certainly and strongly attracted by
anything which can be brought into some sort of connection
with his pre-established circle of ideas, and this often takes
place through a strange misinterpretation of what is presented
to him. An analogous fact is often referred to by travellers,
who tell us that it is not easy to interest savages in accounts
of civilised peoples, though their attention is strongly aroused
by narratives of the ways of living of other savages. Thus the

Apperception. 1 39

thoughts of an Australian aborigine will wander, if he is called
on to listen to a description of London, but will be riveted by
a description of Greenlanders and their mode of existence.

The decay of savage races before the advance of civilisation,
is often referred exclusively or predominantly to such causes
as the introduction of spirituous liquors, of diseases, of vices,
etc. There is a tendency to leave out of account what is
probably the most essential factor. This lies in the inability
of the savage to apperceive the new experiences which are
thrust upon him ; to adapt himself to the new social and other
conditions in which he is placed. The futility of his old modes
of thought and action in relation to the new circumstances,
leads to their repression and gradual decay. For a hopeless
struggle must lead in the end to disgust and discouragement.
Mr. Sproat has drawn attention to a case in which savages
were in every respect well treated by their civilised neighbours,
and, none the less, underwent moral and intellectual degenera-
tion. " It was only after a considerable time that symptoms
of a change, amongst the Indians living nearest to the white
settlement, could be noticed. Not having observed the
gradual process — my mind being occupied with other matters
— I seemed at once to perceive that a few sharp-witted young
natives had become what I can only call offensively European,
and that the mass of the Indians no longer visited the settle-
ment in their former free independent way, but lived listlessly
in the villages, brooding, seemingly, over heavy thoughts.
Their gradual shrinking from association with us, when first
observed, caused a little alarm, but I found, on inquiry, that
it did not arise from ill-will. The fact was, that the curiosity
of the savage had been satisfied ; his mind was confused and
his faculties surprised and stunned by the presence of
machinery, steam vessels, and the active labour of the civilised
men ; he distrusted himself, his old habits and traditions, and
shrank away despondent and discouraged. Always suspicious.

140 j^nacytic i^sycfioLogy.

it now became the business of the Indian h'fe to scrutinise the
actions of the whites, and to speculate apprehensively as to
their probable intentions. He began soon to disregard his
old pursuits, and tribal practices and ceremonies. By-and-by
it was noticed that more than the usual amount of sickness
existed among the Indians, and particularly among the
Indians who lived nearest to the white settlement. . . . This
did not result from ill-usage, nor from the excessive use of
ardent spirits, nor from debauchery ; but from other causes,
among the chief of which, according to my observation, I
would name — the effect of a change of food, and the despond-
ency and discouragement produced in the minds of the
Indians by the presence of a superior race : the latter being
the principal cause." ^

§ 9. Negative Apperception.

An appercipient system may meet with more or less
resistance in the effort to incorporate a new element. This
resistance may merely delay the process of assimilation, or it
may effectively arrest it. It is convenient to distinguish these
two cases, according to their result, as positive and negative
apperception. In positive apperception a mental system
actually succeeds in absorbing a new element ; in negative
apperception the effort to incorporate a new element is
defeated. We have now to distinguish between the kind of
obstruction which merely delays positive apperception from
that which effectively prevents it from taking place. A system
can positively apperceive elements which differ from its
component sub-groups only in those respects in which they
differ from one another. Thus, I recognise an animal as a
bird, when it presents a certain general type of structure under
special modifications varying from those characteristic of

^ G. M. Sproat, Scenes and Studies of Savage Life, pp. 278-9.

Apperception. 141

known species of birds, in a manner analogous to that in
which these vary from each other. Similarly, change in an
individual person or thing does not debar identification so
long as the alteration is of a kind and degree with which we
are familiar. It may also happen that an altogether un-
precedented variation fails to present an effective obstacle to
the process of assimilation. I may recognise a black swan as
such, although I have never seen or heard of any that were
not white. In this and similar cases, we are accustomed to
say that the variation is unimportant, or irrelevant. If the
unaccustomed variation is important, positive apperception
may none the less take place by the aid of relative suggestion.
This happens when the exceptional feature admits of special
explanation, as in the case of air-breathing animals which live
in the sea.

When these conditions are not fulfilled, and when the
divergent features which resist union are not obscured or
suppressed, the result is the final failure of positive apper-
ception, and this is what we call negative apperception. The
positive process is always presupposed ; the negation always
consists in the defeat of an attempted synthesis. But this is
only one aspect of what takes place ; if it were all, we might
simply refuse to recognise the existence of a negative apper-
ception, on the plea that it is not apperception at all, but a
mere failure to apperceive. This would not be correct. We
have defined apperception as the process by which a nie7ital
system appropriates a new element or otJierwise receives a fresh
determination. Now, when the result is negative, there is,
indeed, a failure to appropriate a new element, and so the first
part of the definition is inapplicable, but the second is not so ;
in negative apperception the appercipient systems certainly
receive new determination. They become more definite and
articulate, inasmuch as the points of incongruity between them
emerge with special distinctness into consciousness, in contrast

142 Analytic Psychology.

to those in which they agree. Another kind of determination
is found in the fact that an apperceptive process which has
definitely ended in a negative way does not take place again
under like conditions. The systems implicated in it have
recovered permanent equilibrium in relation to each other.
The vital series, as Avenarius would call it, has reached its
natural termination ; the conation involved in apperception
has attained satisfaction.

It follows from this that negative is a step towards positive
apperception. The failure of a group A to form a positive
combination with another group B, leaves it free to acquire
other connections within the total mental preformation.
Indeed, any further positive connections which it may form
must be other than those which have been excluded by the
negative result of previous process. The full significance of
this point is seen when we consider negative apperception, not
in abstract isolation, but as a moment in a more comprehensive
activity. Thought may, and often does, move to a positive
result by passing through a series of mutually exclusive
alternatives, which are rejected in turn until its end is attained.
Thus the attempt to identify or classify an object may only
reach its final issue after a succession of failures. The total
apperceptive system which constitutes our interest in the
object, apperceives the mental group representing the special
characters of the object, by means of a sequence of subordinate
apperceptive processes, in which its own constituent sub-groups
come alternately into play. The question, " What is this ? "
represents the initial stage of the process, corresponding to the
excitation of the total system. This system, though it may
be very comprehensive, has yet in all cases a specific character
which circumscribes the limits of the question. To borrow a
term from logic, the answer must fall within a certain
" universe of discourse ". This means that the possible alterna-
tives are confined within a certain range, " What is this ? " in

Apperception. 1 4 3

the mouth of the botanist examining a new specimen, means
" What kind of a plant is this ? " The question, " What is this ? "
in its abstract generality, is never actually asked by any one.
The further development of the process, by which the question
tends to find its answer, consists in a series of attempted
identifications. Each of these in turn fails ; and, by its
failure, makes way for another, until a positive apperception
takes place, or, it may be, until all the alternatives are
exhausted with a negative result. In most cases the total
process cannot reach its end through mere negation, so that
exhaustion of alternatives issues, not in equilibrium, but in
another condition which we shall presently have to consider,
that of conflict. In the attempt to identify an object by
successive trials, a dominant and persistent appercipient
system brings into play its subordinate sub-groups in turn.
In other instances the groups which give place to each other
in sequence are those which are apperceived. The dominant
system strives to appropriate an element which is wanting to
it, and, failing to find it in one direction, seeks for it in
another. A good example is afforded by the illustration of
the lost key referred to, (p. 1 19). The search among the bunch
of keys is a series of negative apperceptions ending in a
positive one, if it is successful.

The office fulfilled by negation, so far as we have yet
considered it, is that of making way for new anperceptive
processes, by the exclusion of previous ones. But this is far
from being its whole function. The exclusion of other
alternatives not only leads up to a new and different attempt
at positive apperception ; it is also a condition which directly
contributes to bring about a positive issue. Positive apper-
ception may take place in a given way, because no other way
presents itself. We may identify an object as C^ because we
cannot identify it as A or B, although, apart from the
exclusion of A and B^ the process would not have a positive

144 Analytic Psychology.

result. It sometimes happens that we recur to an alternative
previously rejected because of the failure of others. When
this is so, a negative apperception turns out to be only
provisionally negative. We have said that an apperceptive
process, which has definitely ended in a negative way, does
not take place again under like conditions. Here a new
condition is added — the exhaustion of alternatives. When we
have looked "everywhere" for a missing article, we begin to
look again in places which have been previously searched.
This renewal of previous attempts is still more likely to take
place when, as often happens, the preceding apperception has
not had a negative issue, but has simply failed to have any
definite issue at all, positive or negative. As negative con-
ditions positive apperception, so positive conditions negative.
The two are so correlated that each is meaningless without
the other. The appropriation of mental elements by one
system precludes their being appropriated by other co-
ordinate systems. If we have identified an animal as a
mammal, we have excluded the possibility of its being
oviparous ; and the attempt to apperceive it through the
mental system corresponding to what we know of birds, will,
therefore, either yield a negative result, or dissolve the pre-
formed connection. This leads to the consideration of
apperception in its destructive aspect.

§ 10. Destructive Apperception.

This takes place when one system by appropriating a new
element wrests it from its preformed connection with another
system. This may occur in two ways, according as it has its
origin in a negative or in a positive apperception. If a
person whom we have been led to regard as governed by high
principles of honour and rectitude is discovered by us in some
secret course of roguery, the new positive apperception brings

Apperception. 145

with it a negative, dissolving the old. The new connection
implies the disintegration of pre-established connections ; it
introduces a negative relation where a positive one has
previously existed. Where the point of departure is a negative
apperception, the process is somewhat more complicated. The
negative by itself is not sufficient apart from the co-operation
of a coincident positive apperception. Let us take a case in
which a theory is rejected because it is confronted with an
irreconcilable fact. The system corresponding to the theory
apperceives the fact negatively, and this involves the rejection
of the theory. But what does this rejection mean ? It means
that there is a still wider mental system of which the theory
has previously formed a constituent part ; and that, henceforth,
it ceases to form part of this system. The dissolution of the
pre-established connection involves coincidently the negative
relation between theory and fact, and a positive relation
between fact and the larger whole of which the theory is a
special component. The theory may be a doctrine of
heredity ; the wider whole, to which it belongs, may be the
entire range of knowledge concerning living organisms
possessed by biology. The dissolution of preformed combina-
tions will then follow from the union of positive and negative
apperception. The positive apperception incorporates the
new fact with the general body of biological knowledge ; the
negative excludes it from the ideal group constituting the
special theory. Hence arises a negative relation between the
special theory and the whole body of biological knowledge.

§ II. Conflict of Systems.

We have already described the general nature of conflict in

its more primitive form (see p. 282). From our present point

of view, we may define it as a state of more or less prolonged

suspense between positive and negative apperception. By it
VOL. n. 10

146 Analytic Psychology.

the onward movement of the apperceptive process is arrested,
and a deadlock ensues. The most general condition on which
it depends, is the coincident activity of two or more systems,
each of which tends to appropriate the same elements, in such
a way that the success of one is the defeat of the others. The
most intense and enduring processes of this kind are those in
which destructive apperception is threatened. Where positive
apperception by one system implies the disintegration of
another, and conversely, each resists the apperceptive process,
inasmuch as it tends to maintain its own existence against
destructive forces. Take as an instance the mental attitude
of an astronomer who has discovered aberrations in the path
of a planet, which he cannot explain. On the one hand, the
recognition of the fact threatens with disintegration the
organised system of ideas relating to the movements of the
heavenly bodies. On the other hand, a like disintegration is
involved in the rejection of the fact — a disintegration of the
mental system with which his observations and calculations
are bound up. The conflict is the more intense and inevitable,
because both systems are intimately united in a more compre-
hensive one, constituting the entire body of his astronomical
knowledge ; for this more comprehensive system simultane-
ously supports and sustains both of its constituents in their
mutual struggle.

A plurality of systems may severally tend to enter into
positive union with the same system ; the absence of
conditions sufficing to decide in favour of one to the ex-
clusion of the others is a frequent source of conflict. This
is the suspense which arises out of mere indeterminateness,
in contrast to the suspense which arises out of positive
contradictions. A simple instance of it is supplied by
the traveller who finds himself unable to determine which
of two roads is the right one. The claims of the one road are
counteracted by the counter claims of the other, so that he is

Appercepti07i. 147

brought, both mentally and bodily, to a standstill. In another
class of instances, the onward flow of ideas may be arrested,
because alternative modes of apperceiving are, at least for the
time being, exhausted. This is the mental attitude in which
we say that we have looked " everywhere " for a thing, and
cannot imagine where it is. Sometimes the suspense arises
from the indefinite multiplicity of alternatives, where there is
no condition tending to suggest the right one rather than
others. This is illustrated by the kind of perplexity which a
conundrum may cause. The impatient mood which precedes
" giving it up," is a good example of mental conflict. Finally,
the mental deadlock may arise from the non-existence of the
apperceptive sub-group, necessary to give a new mental
combination its specific place in a wider system. This is the
attitude of the student of fossils, who finds a specimen belong-
ing to a kind with which he is unacquainted. The conflict
finds its natural issue when, by appeal to books or authorities,
he assigns his specimen to a previously known class, or when,
definitely recognising it as new, he has analysed and described
its relations of affinity or difference with co-ordinate forms.
This is an important form of conflict, including, as it does, all
cases of bewilderment springing from mere strangeness or
unfamiliarity.

There are two ways in which conflict may end. It may
either work itself out to its natural termination, so that a new
mental combination arises in which the conditions of conflict
are no longer present, or it may be merely avoided or evaded.
It is not too much to say that this distinction affords a
principle of division between different types of intellectual and
moral character. Some may squarely meet doubts and
difficulties, and strenuously strive to solve them. Others
simply resent and shun them ; they are perpetually afraid, so
to speak, of wetting their feet. The avoidance of conflict may
take place in one of two modes. Either the whole line of

148 Analytic Psychology.

thought is abandoned when it is brought to a standstill, or it
proceeds through the mere suppression of one of the antagonist
groups, by the superior strength of the other. To return to
our previous illustration, a man, on coming to diverging roads
without being able to decide which is the right one, may either
simply go back for fear of losing himself, or he may make a
choice determined by the superior attractiveness of one path
to the other.

Under what conditions does evasion take place rather than the
following out of a conflict to its issue ? This inquiry has two
branches. What are the conditions which favour the evasion
which consists in withdrawal, and what are those which favour
the evasion which depends on the suppression of one of the op-
posing groups ? These two modes of procedure are characteristic
of distinct types of mind. The mind which habitually retreats
before intellectual difficulties, and fears to lose itself in wander-
ing mazes, is usually of the practical and straightforward type ;
it follows the path of plain common sense. The mind which
overlooks, or forgets, or thrusts aside difficulties and objections,
is usually excitable and unstable. Its temper is impetuous,
precipitate, or enthusiastic. It is also often characterised by
flightiness ; the ideas and projects which, at one moment,
possess a tyrannical dominance in it, give place rapidly to
others of a different nature, which exhibit an equal degree of
exclusive intensity. The extreme examples of this form of
mental process are to be found in pathological exaltation.

There is a general tendency to withdraw from conflict which
arises from the very nature of mental activity in general. Our
total mental activity is like a stream, which, when its course is
barred in one direction, seeks other channels. This tendency
is stronger in proportion as the arrest of mental process is
more complete. Thus the inclination of the mind to turn
aside from a difficulty, will be greater in proportion as it is
more helpless in face of the difficulty. Conflict, in some cases.

Apperception. 1 49

may be the centre of a kind of mental fermentation ; in itself,
it is a mere arrest of activity, but it may be the incentive
to a rapid and varied flow of ideas which tend to bring
about its removal. In so far as this is not the case, the
total mental condition becomes one of dead strain, comparable
to a bodily struggle against an immovable obstacle. This
attitude of mind cannot, without very powerful motive, be
maintained for any length of time. Hence the result is
the diversion of thought into other channels. The reluctance
of the plain man to encounter the travail of mental conflict is
in part explicable on this ground. The difficulties which he
shuns, mean for him mere blank perplexity unrelieved by the
rapid flow of conjectures, hypotheses, and distinctions. His
common sense consists in following mainly the beaten tracks,
in which such obstruction rarely presents itself The dominant
apperceptive systems, which enter into his mental organisation,
refer to the more common and immediate practical ends of
life, and not to remote ideals, theoretical, social, or ethical.
Hence he has neither strong enough motives, nor adequate
means for dealing with the difficulties connected with these
comparatively " abstruse " topics. We say that he has neither
means nor motives. The motive for facing a difficulty lies
always in the strength of the interest involved in its solution,
the strength of the conation which it debars from satisfaction,
the intensity of the apperceptive activity which it obstructs.
In other words, the more powerful is the mental system or
systems involved in the total process within which a conflict
occurs, the more likely is the conflict to be persistently main-
tained, or, under special conditions, to be evaded by the
repression of one of the conflicting groups. The traveller who
is brought to a halt by the difficulty of deciding between two
roads, will long continue to debate the question, if important
issues depend upon his reaching his destination at a given
time. The whole apperceptive system involved in the process

150 Analytic Psychology.

derives its strength from the strength of the practical desire
which it embodies and defines. Hence retreat from conflict is
precluded. Even if one road is chosen, merely because there
is no time to decide, the internal struggle and perplexity
continue, until it turns out plainly that the path actually taken
is the right or the wrong one. Now, in this instance, it must
be noted that the apperceptive system, from which proceeds
the impulse and motive to continue the struggle, yields equal
support to both the conflicting groups. So far as depends on
it, the only interest involved in choosing between the two
roads lies in their relation to the end to be attained. So long
as it remains indeterminate which of them conducts to this
end, both of them are equally interesting in relation to it.
Hence, in proportion as this total apperceptive system pre-
dominates, the less likely is the conflict to be evaded by
repression of one of the conflicting groups. In so far as these
derive their strength from it, they are on an equality. But
they may not derive their whole strength from the more
comprehensive whole, with which they are connected. One
road may be smooth and easy, and may conduct through
cheerful and attractive scenery ; the other may be rugged,
arduous and gloomy. Now, the tendency to take the more
inviting path will virtually count for nothing, if the ultimate
practical interests involved are sufficiently strong. But it may
count for much, if they are comparatively weak. Here we
find the essential condition which determines whether a
difficulty shall be slurred over, or fairly encountered and
overcome. All depends on the antithesis between the equal
support which the conflicting groups derive from their connec-
tion with a more comprehensive system, and the strength which
they derive from other circumstances. These circumstances
comprise all the conditions enumerated in § 8, as constituting
the permanent or transient strength of mental systems. One
of the conflicting groups, for instance, may be superior in

Apperception. 1 5 1

extent, in associative cohesion of its parts, or in the degree of
its internal organisation. Such conditions as these constitute
the blinding influence of long-cherished preconceptions or
hardened prejudices. A theory which has been long enter-
tained, and has served as a principle of connection for a
multitude of facts, is confronted with a phenomenon which
conflicts with it. The fact is a datum which ought to be
explicable by the theory. In other words, the idea or
perception of it, belongs to the more comprehensive system of
which the theory is also part. Unless, then, the fact is ignored
or misrepresented, conflict must ensue and persist until either
the theory is rejected, or the exception to it is explained. But
the fact, if it stands comparatively isolated, is very likely to be
ignored. It may, indeed, create trouble at the moment, when
it is encountered in actual sense-experience, or when it is
insisted on by other students of science. But the habitual
cohesion, the complexity, and the internal organisation of the
pre-established system, will give it a permanent advantage in
the struggle, which will enable it, for the most part, to exclude
its opponent from consciousness, or, it may be, to blunt the
edge of the difficulty by a hasty explanation, which, if it were
scrutinised, would be seen to involve new difficulties, or the same
difficulties in a new form. We have here supposed that at least
a transient or intermittent conflict actually takes place. But
often the evasion is more complete. The efficacy of the pre-
formed system is such that facts inconsistent with it are simply
overlooked or transformed by coalescence from the very
outset. The observer, or experimenter, finds what his pre-
conceived ideas lead him to expect, and fails to notice or
actually transmutes into something else what is incongruous
with them. A conspicuous illustration of this is found in
psychological experiments. Any preconception on the part
of the subject of the result which ought to follow, goes far to
destroy the value of the result. A simpler case is that of

152 Analytic Psychology.

proof-reading, which we have previously alluded to. Here the
habitual spelling of a word prevents the reader from detecting
how the word actually is spelt. It is needless to refer to cases
in common life. It will be enough to mention ghost-stories
and other tales of marvellous experiences, or, better still, the
odd omissions and insertions which are found even in the most
careful and conscientious accounts by eye-witnesses of slate-
writing performances.^ It will be noticed that the mere fact of
an apperceptive system being already in activity tends to
exclude from consciousness what conflicts with it, and that the
more intense it is, the stronger is this tendency. The system
tends to evolve itself in consciousness, and the more rapidly
and intensely it does so, the less chance have interfering
conditions to come into operation. In this way we can
account for the unconscious inconsistencies into which men
fall in their mode of thinking and acting. What a man says
and believes in the heat of polemical discussion may be very
different from what he says and believes in a cool moment.
Yet he may never be aware of the discrepancy until he is
unpleasantly reminded of it by some one else. Similarly, a
person's opinions under the influence of an imposing religious
ceremony, may vary considerably from those which he enter-
tains in pursuing a scientific or critical research. It is quite
conceivable that a professor of anatomy, who is also a devout
Roman Catholic, may pay veneration to what are alleged to
be bones of saints, although his scientific knowledge would
constrain him to identify them as the bones of animals. In
cases of this kind the two systems, which might conflict and
do not, are usually disparate and disconnected. They may
be equally extensive and excitable, as in the last instance,
but they are not so united under a higher noetic synthesis,
that the one is unable to operate in detachment from the other.

' See Minto's Logic, p. 286

Apperception. 153

The one, which for the time being preoccupies consciousness,
excludes the other by competition. The points in which they
conflict may be almost the only points of community between
them. Hence the strength with which they compete is
altogether out of proportion to the strength with which they co-
operate. There is, as indicated above, an " impulsive " or
"excitable" type of mind which is peculiarly apt to under-
estimate, overlook, or forget difficulties.^ This mental attitude
finds its most appropriate embodiment in precipitate action,
which often fails, because of the very eagerness with which
it seeks its immediate object. The characteristics of the
type are: (i) The explosive intensity of the group of ideas
which happens at any given time to occupy the field ot
consciousness, and the rapidity with which it develops itself;

(2) either as cause or consequence, or both cause and
consequence, of this, the absence of systematic control exercised
by more comprehensive systems over their constituent parts ;

(3) changeableness or flightiness — the rapid and complete way
in which one topic or project supplants another. (3) follows
naturally from (i) and (2). The exaltation in the initial
stages of mania affords good illustration. The patient is full
of all kinds of impossible projects, which he puts forward with
confident eagerness and complacency, heedless of obvious
obstacles ; and when these are presented to him, he meets
remonstrance with indignant and violent resentment, as if it
could only come from an enemy. What he is incapable of

^ There are also other types which shirk mental obstacles. " Dreamy "
people do so. "Dreamers" are of two kinds, the indolent and the
strenuous. Comte was a strenuous dreamer. His own ideals so pre-
occupied his consciousness as to pervert his view of the actual social
and political conditions under which he lived. He mentally evaded
practical difficulties because his interest in his own practical ideal was
so strong. The indolent dreamer, on the other hand, evades both
practical and theoretical obstacles, for an opposite reason, — the feeble-
ness of his theoretical and practical interests.

154 Analytic Psychology,

is prolonged persistence in any train of thought, or in any one
pursuit. His mind flies from one project of self-aggrandise-
ment or philanthropy to another, forgetting each in turn.
Allowing for the difference in degree, this description evidently
applies to many persons who are not classed as insane.
Excellent instances of the way in which an excitable and
disorderly mind may fall into obvious inconsistencies, without
experiencing conflict, are supplied by Professor Lombroso, in
his work on The Female Offender. One of these may serve to
conclude this section : " Madame Goglet, who set fire to her
house in order to burn her old husband, said at first that the
guilty party was a stranger whom she had fired at without
hitting him. Next she asserted that she was not the true
Madame Goglet, but a great friend, who exactly resembled
her, and had undertaken to nurse the old man in his real wife's
place. And finally, when her husband swore to her identity
in court, she did not hesitate to affirm that he had become
purblind in consequence of a shock." ^

§ 12. Suggestibility.

The normal working of competition, co-operation, and
conflict, may be admirably illustrated by contrasting it with a
certain pathological state in which these processes are more or
less completely in abeyance. The pathological state to which
I refer is called suggestibility. It accompanies certain phases
of the hypnotic trance, and it is frequent in hysterical patients.
In the mind of a suggestible person, apperceptive systems are
excited almost wholly by the commands, words, gestures, etc.,
of another person, and not by their own mutual competition
and co-operation. It follows that conflict also is almost
absent, except in so far as conflicting groups are simultane-
ously excited by suggestion. Hence arises the possibility of

P. i8i.

Apperception. 155

all kinds of strange hallucinations and delusions. In pro-
portion as a subject is suggestible, he is incapable of
spontaneously finding difficulties or inconsistencies to interfere
with his belief, in what would, under normal conditions,
appear to him to be the wildest vagaries of imagination. If
he is told that he is the Emperor of China, he straightway
proceeds to act and speak as if he were so, without any mis-
giving. A voyage to the moon will present no more
difficulty than the most common-place incident. If he is told
that he is making such a voyage, or has made it, he will
accept the suggested situation as if it were real ; he will act
and speak as if he actually were in a balloon, leaving the earth
beneath him. He will then represent the journey as com-
pleted, and will proceed to discuss the difficulty of returning.
This difficulty he can appreciate, because it arises from a
conflict within the limits of the total system which is already
excited by suggestion. But the general impossibility of the
situation never strikes him at all. With the exception of the
dominant system, the constituent elements of the mind are
virtually inoperative. Surrounding objects stimulate the senses,
but they fail to call into being any percepts save those which
are congruent with the reigning group of ideas. The external
stimulus is incapable of suppressing images having their source
in suggestion, and of substituting others in their stead.
Whatever in the environment is incompatible with, or even
irrelevant to, the suggested train of ideas, escapes notice as if
it were non-existent. Sensory stimulation, instead of interfer-
ing with suggestion, becomes auxiliary to it by giving
sensuous vividness and definite localisation in space to
suggested images.

Some degree of suggestibility is a frequent accompaniment
and manifestation of mental weakness, whether arising
from imperfect development or from disorganisation due
to disease or to drugs. A young child is more or less

156 Analytic fsycfiology.

suggestible because its mind is unformed. The mental
systems which in the adult resist suggestion are in it as
yet too feeble to do so. A drunken man is suggestible
because in him apperceptive systems act in abnormal isolation.
This is shown by the fact that in his intoxicated state he says
and does what in his sober moments he would be incapable
of. He becomes powerless to resist temptation, because
restraining considerations are inoperative. A healthy con-
dition of mind is characterised by a general excitability of all
the mental systems composing the empirical Ego, which
enables them to co-operate, compete, and conflict, with a
comparative strength simultaneously determined by all the
conditions enumerated in § 8.

13. Issue of Conflict.

It belongs to the very nature of persistent conflict to set in
motion processes which lead to its own cessation. At the
point of conflict the onward flow of mental activity is arrested.
The further evolution of the total apperceptive system in this
direction is brought to a standstill ; hence if the conflict is
not evaded, there must result either a state of dead strain
leading to stupefaction, or a regressive movement of thought,
consisting in ideal or perceptual trains, which have for their
destination that point in the original process at which conflict
emerged. The mental trains thus conditioned and controlled
by the conflict may have very various points of departure.
What is essential is that they should lead back to the conflict-
ing groups, so as to supplement or otherwise modify one or both
of these. It may be that the point of departure is some previous
link in the original train, so that this train is partially or
wholly repeated, as when we go over a calculation afresh
in order to detect a mistake in it. The repetition differs
from the original process, inasmuch as it is modified by

Apperception . 157

the conflict; indeed, it may be said that throughout the
course of it the conflict continues to be felt. It takes place
with more slowness and hesitancy than at first, and there is
a constant tendency to introduce variations into it ; in fact the
end which the process of repetition aims at, is that of being
no mere repetition. This follows from the general principle,
that where the course of mental activity is obstructed in one
direction, it seeks other channels.

When the conflict is between alternative groups, each of which
tends to be positively apperceived by the same system, the start-
ing-point may be supplied by one of these. This happens when,
being puzzled to choose between cross-roads, we walk along
one of them in order to see in what direction it leads us. It
happens also, whenever an attempt is made to decide between
alternative hypotheses by developing each in turn to its
consequences. The use of the inverse or analytic procedure
in geometry is also a case in point. We call these processes
regressive, because they find, or tend to find, their termination
at the point where the conflict began. Moreover, throughout
their whole course the conflict manifests itself in their
provisional and tentative character. The mental attitude
of the man who walks along a road in order to dis-
cover whether it is the right or the wrong one, is utterly
different from that of the man who takes the same road
without any doubt that it will lead him to his destination. If
the road takes an obviously wrong turn, he will have to go
back bodily, as well as mentally, to the place from which he
started. If the revival of old reminiscences, or other considera-
tions, assure him that he is on the right track, he will not need
to go back bodily, but none the less he does so mentally.
The free flow of ideas starts afresh from the point where it
was suspended. If he finds himself unable to come to a
conclusion, then this free flow of ideas continues to be arrested.
Finally, the regressive series may have points of departure

158 Analytic Psychology.

independent of the original process. The conflicting groups
may be apperceived by systems which were not previously
operative, so that new mental trains evolve themselves in
consciousness. It is to be noticed that the regress may be
perceptual as well as ideal. If I pick up what I suppose
to be a piece of chalk in order to write on a blackboard, and
find that it does not behave like chalk, I look at it again to see
whether it really has the distinctive appearance of chalk
or not.

The regressive movement of thought which I have described
never occurs except when it is produced and controlled by
conflict It is only when confronted by obstacles to its
progress, that the mind returns upon its own traces, or other-
wise makes a fresh start. We do not reconsider plans
or opinions unless we are driven to do so by some
kind of doubt or difficulty. Hence the enormous im-
portance of conflict as a condition of intellectual and practical
progress. It is not too much to say that the progressive
development of human knowledge and of human ideals has its
origin in conflicts which work themselves out to their natural
terminations. We cannot here pretend to enumerate ex-
haustively the manifold modes in which conflict may achieve
its own solution. We must be content to mention a few
typical examples by way of illustration.

Sometimes the material required for resolving a difficulty,
or explaining a contradiction, is already in the possession of
the mind, so that it only needs to be brought into conscious-
ness. This is illustrated by the riddle or conundrum. Here
the initial apperceptive group consists in the indeterminate
thought of some particular case or other, which shall satisfy
certain general conditions. This group most often derives
its strength and permanence from its connection with
some wider whole. We usually attempt to answer a conun-
drum from some such motives as desire to show off our

Apperception. 159

cleverness, or to gratify the company in which we happen to
be. Otherwise, most men would simply withdraw from the
conflict. The perplexity, where perplexity exists, lies in the
indefinite number of alternatives, among which we have to
make a selection, without any clue to lead us to the single
right one. It is like looking for a needle in a bundle of
hay. Each case as it arises is found to satisfy one part of the
conditions, but not the rest. Positive apperception which
removes the conflict takes place only when we stumble upon
an alternative which satisfies all the conditions. In other
kinds of conflict, and those the most important, the solution
presupposes the formation of new mental groups. The means
of overcoming the difficulty are not already part of our
permanent mental possessions, but have to be constructed in
the process itself Here there is an important distinction
between cases in which the new combination involves a new
and higher noetic synthesis, and those in which it is merely a
co-ordinate sub-group within a higher system. The last class
of instances is of course the simpler. One of them has been
elaborately analysed by Dr. Theodor Lipps.^ I here briefly
reproduce his results. Suppose that I meet with a plant
belonging to a well-known species, which presents on this
occasion an exceptional and unfamiliar feature. Perhaps,
instead of having thorns as usual, it is thornless. The novel
feature strikes me, and brings me to a pause. A regressive
movement sets in, and I reconsider the plant. I scan its
details closely, to see whether in other respects it really
resembles the species to which I have referred it. Finding no
important difference, I remain perplexed, and my thought
goes back to consider other circumstances, such as climate and
soil. I notice that the vegetation around is exceptionally
luxurious, indicating a peculiarly rich soil. Now I have
learnt to connect varying characters of the soil with corre-
^ Grundtatsachen des Seekulebens, pp. 416 ff.

i6o Analytic Psychology.

spending variations in the characters of plants. This removes
my perplexity. Instead of an identical «, tending to maintain
simultaneously in the same relation to itself, two incompatible
determinations, P and P^, there is now an ab^ demanding P
for its self-completion, and an ab^^ demanding P^ for its self-
completion. The single path from a to P and P.^, has divided
into two, that which passes through b to P and through ^^ to
P^. It is assumed, of course, that there is no conflict between
b and b^. All that is required for this is that they should be
variations of a kind with which we are familiar. Here ab^ P^,
is the combination which comes into being in the process, and
forms a mental sub-group, which may become appercipient
when similar experiences arise in the future. We have
assumed that the condition b^^ is identified as belonging to a
well-known series of variations, b^, b^, b^, b^, which we have
learnt to connect with corresponding differences in the
appearance of plants. But this may not be so. We may be
in doubt as to whether ^^ is likely to be an operative condition
or not. In this case, the final solution of doubt will probably
depend on further experiences of a similar kind ; in which we
find abj^ connected with P^, or it may be «^2> ^^3> ^^^-y connected
with /'g, /*3, etc. The whole process is a simple form of what
logicians call Induction. The case of the astronomer, per-
plexed by discovering aberrations in the path of a planet,
leads to a process having more affinity with Deduction.
He does not in the first instance solve his problem by
observing the new body which creates the disturbance. It is
rather the conflict itself which, in the regressive movement of
thought which it produces, calls up the idea of a disturbing
body, having a certain situation and direction of movement,
as the only means of making the system of astronomical
knowledge consistent with itself. The actual observation of
this new body follows on this as a further apperceptive
process.

Apperception. i6i

We have said that the solution of conflict sometimes takes
place through the formation of a new system involving a
higher noetic synthesis. This means that systems which
previously existed in relative detachment and independence,
become unified in a single whole. For simple illustration we
may refer to the progress of the child towards higher concepts —
a progress forced on him by the urgent need for understanding
the language of those around him. To borrow an instance
from Steinthal,^ the child may initially connect the word table
with a certain shape and size. Tables may for him at the
outset = big, square tables. He hears the word applied to
small tables, and to round tables ; this at first puzzles him ;
but he ultimately works his way out of the difficulty by noting
the common use and purpose of a table, and connecting the
word with this. Round and square are now to him kinds of
table ; the corresponding ideas are special sub-groups com-
prised within a higher system. On process of this kind
depend all epoch-making ideas, scientific or practical, or
aesthetic. Newton's long brooding over the problem of the
motions of the heavenly bodies, led to a higher synthesis,
which blended into the unity of a single system our know-
ledge of the paths of the planets, and our knowledge of
the conditions under which things fall to the earth. Many
persons before Newton may have idly entertained the passing
question : If stones and other bodies fall to the earth, why
does not the moon fall also ? What made the question fruit-
ful in Newton's case was that it arose in connection with avast
problem which persistently and intensely occupied his mind.
It thus became the starting point for complicated trains of
ideas leading to the resolution of conflict. In this process it
became clear that the moon did fall in a manner and degree
modified by special circumstances. In like manner the

^ PsycJtologie und Sprachwissenschaft, p. 173.
VOL. II. II

1 62 Analytic Psychology.

problem of synthetic propositions a priori produced in the
mind of Kant a higher synthesis, which had never before
existed for any human being. The idea of a synthetic
judgment a priori could not be apperceived positively or
negatively by any mental system which had grown up in the
course ot philosophical thinking ; it could not be identified
either as mere matter of fact or as " a truth of reason ". It
persisted in presenting itself as at once both matter of fact and
not matter of fact and both truth of reason and not truth of
reason. The difficulty was solved by Kant's conception of the
synthesis implied in the very possibility of experience. With
this the hard and fast distinction between the particular
percept and the thought universal disappeared, and it was seen
that matter of fact is essentially constituted by the universal
function of thought.

Michael Angelo said that genius is an infinite capacity for
taking pains. This is not, I think, an adequate account of
genius ; but we are now in a position to see how large a
measure of truth it contains. The capacity for taking pains
must not be identified with capacity for industrious plodding
and patient attention to detail. Looked at in this way,
it would no doubt be true that Michael Angelo's definition
is a very good definition of what genius is not. But
what the great Italian probably meant was the power of
sustaining mental conflict. If Newton could maintain
for hours at a stretch a struggle with difficulties which
would exhaust and disgust the ordinary mind in five minutes^
it is sufficient to stamp Newton as a genius. We have in the
previous chapter considered another aspect of genius — its
facility. We then said : " A process of patient and laborious
sifting and rejecting, is exactly the characteristic which is
conspicuous by its absence in the mental construction of the
man of genius ". In this there is no inconsistency with our
present position. On the contrary, the possibility of persis-

Apperception. 163

tently maintaining a mental conflict depends on the resources
at the disposal of the thinker. If he is helpless in the face of
a difficulty, so that it is for him a mere dead strain, and
general stagnation of mental process, he finds it unendurable.
A rich and abundant flow of ideas and a power of construction,
which reaches its end with facility and certainty through
relative suggestion without continual trial and error, is
precisely what makes possible the infinite capacity for taking
pains. When these conditions are fulfilled, conflict leads to
the maximum intensity and fulness of mental activity, instead
of to blank suspense. The fault which can fairly be found
with Michael Angelo's statement, considered as a definition,
is that it is not sufficiently general in its application. Only
genius can sustain mental conflict in the way described ; but a
man may be a genius without grappling with difficulties in
this strong and enduring way. The power of rich and facile
construction is in itself a sufficiently distinctive characteristic.
Mozart was a man of genius as well as Kant.

§ 14. Conditions Determining the Train of Ideas.

The direction of attention is guided coincidently by the
working of two sets of conditions : (i) By the relative
excitability of different apperceptive groups ; (2) By sense-
impressions and by preformed associations between prior and
subsequent links in the train of ideas. The relative im-
portance of these co-operating conditions may vary greatly.
A sense-impression may sometimes appear to command
attention by its mere violence, or the succession of presenta-
tions in the focus of consciousness may in certain cases seem
to be almost wholly determined by the strength and intimacy
of the associations which link together the sequent parts of the
series inter se. But subjective selection determined by the
preformed organisation of apperceptive systems and by the
conditions which at the moment favour or retard their activity,

164 Analytic Psychology.

is never wholly inoperative, and as a rule plays a conspicuous
part. Among competing sense-impressions attention, ceteris
paribus, singles out those which are most interesting, i.e,^ those
which tend to produce the greatest amount of change in the
most excitable systems. Similarly, when one presentation a
tends by association to revive simultaneously x, y, z, the
selection of any one of them, x, in preference to the others,
depends, ceteris paribus, or the special significance and interest
of.r. Association and sensory stimulation bring into the field
a limited number of rival claimants, each of which, so to
speak, solicits attention. The decision between their respective
claims depends on the comparative excitability of the apper-
ceptive systems with which they are severally congruent. It
depends also on the nature and degree of this congruence. If
a presentation is so conformed to an apperceptive system,
that it can be assimilated with a certain degree of facility and
rapidity, assimilation will not be apperceptive. The likelihood
that assimilation will be apperceptive is greater in proportion
to the want of congruence. On the other hand, the likelihood
that assimilation will take place at all is, ceteris paribus,
dependent on the degree of congruence. A presentation may
fail to be apperceived by a dominant system simply because it
has not sufficient affinity with it.

§ 15. Thought and Association.

A sequence of ideas or percepts may have little claim to be
called a train of thought. Some mental transitions are
referable to the mere play of association. Thus it may happen
in conversation that the casual mention of a name leads the
mind to fly off at a tangent to a topic entirely disparate from
that which previously occupied it. This is what Hobbes
calls " ranging," as opposed to methodical thinking. In idle
reverie our thoughts are apt to range or ramble from one
topic to another, guided only by casual connections of ideas.

Apperceptio7i, 1 65

Transitions of this kind are specially characteristic of weak
and untrained minds. Disciplined thinking, on the contrary,
is marked by continuity of interest. A train of ideas is not a
train of thought unless each link in it is a stage in the evolution
of a dominant system ; unless it presents successively the
parts or aspects of some kind of whole. In discussing
"suggestibility," we had occasion to consider the tyrannical
supremacy which a mental system may acquire simply because
other systems are unexcitable and therefore unable to compete
or conflict with it. In contrast to this, the full development
of thought presupposes not the abolition of competition and
co-operation, but their full and unimpeded exercise. The
dominant system prevails over others, equally favoured by the
working of association and by sensory stimulation, merely
because it is more comprehensive, better organised, etc., than
its competitors. The general excitability of the other
elements which compose the mind, as determined by con-
ditions of this kind and by co-operation, remains unimpaired.
There is therefore nothing to hinder the conflict of systems.
Indeed conflict is likely to become more frequent and more in-
tense in proportion as thought is more sustained and strenuous.

In strictness, wherever sequent ideas or percepts are
related to the same apperceptive system, they constitute a
train of thought. Thus in the developed consciousness at any
rate what must in theory be termed trains of thought are
always going on. The transitions due to the mere play of
association are not transitions between isolated ideas, but
between thought-sequences. When the mind rambles most,
these thought-sequences may be very brief — may be mere
shred ends of thought. But even in the most indolent
attitude of mind they always have some degree, however
small, of continuity and internal development.

The various trains which satisfy our definition of a thought-
process may present the essential characteristics of thought in

1 66 Analytic Psychology,

varying degrees. It is possible that our ideas as they succes-
sively emerge may all have reference to the same general topic,
and yet they may occur in so sporadic and orderless a sequence
that most people would hesitate to call the process thinking.
The ruins of an old castle may carry our minds back into the past,
so that our fancies and reflections all have more or less reference
to feudal manners and customs. Nevertheless we may wander
from point to point in a very desultory manner. The
transitions can never be entirely desultory, but in so far as
they are so, the essential characteristic of thinking is wanting.
There is only ranging within certain broad limits. The
degree in which thinking is present, is the degree in which the
order of presentation of the parts is fixed and determined by
the idea of the whole. This presupposes that at every step
the relation of the sequent parts is attended to, so as to evolve
before consciousness in a systematic way the plan of combina-
tion characteristic of the whole. In so far as this is not the
case, the relations between the parts tend to escape attention.
The objects successively presented have an interest of their
own independent of their interconnection ; the relations
between them serve as transitions from one term in the ideal
or perceptual series to another, without appearing in clear
consciousness as inte^al parts of the total subject-matter to
which thought is directed. On the other hand, the more fully
a mental sequence deserves the name of a thought-process, the
more persistently are the connecting relations attended to ;
each presentation constitutes a further determination or
development of its predecessor, instead of merely displacing it
in an order of exclusive succession. No one would hesitate to
say that we enter on a train of thought when the sight of a
ruined castle leads us not to desultory fancies, but to an
attempt to reconstruct its past history, having regard to
chronological order and the natural sequence of events.

We may distinguish between different kinds of thought-

Apperception. ity

process, according to the different ways in which the successive
links of the ideal chain determine each other. Thought
reaches its highest development with the organisation of what
we may call " proportional systems " ; in these there is a
pervading identity of form in the plan of interconnection,
according to which the constituent elements of the several sub-
groups are related inter se. The sub-groups themselves may
be combined according to the same plaa in the unity of the
whole system. The Hegelian philosophy, as it exists in the
mind of the Hegelian, is, as we have seen in § 7, a signal
instance of this mode of mental organisation. But in all
normal human minds which have reached a certain degree ol
development there exist systems approximating more or less
to the same type. Whoever has learned in any degree to
apprehend geometrical or numerical relations as such, has
developed a proportional system — a system adapted to
apperceive objects in other respects most diverse from each
other, merely because they agree in being capable of entering
into certain relations. The pressure of practical needs gives
rise even in early stages of mental growth to systems which
are to a great extent proportional in their constitution. The
special lines of action by which on different occasions we
realise the same end, may vary according to circumstances :
but these different ways of doing the same thing for the most
part correspond in broad outline although they differ in detail.
This correspondence is of a formal or proportional kind,
because it consists in a certain common scheme of relation
connecting the different lines of action with the one end.

In the next chapter we shall have to consider a mode of
thought-process which preconditions the formation of all but
simple and rudimentary proportional systems, and which, in
co-operation with language, is the main factor determining the
development of conception. We refer to what, in a wide
application of the term, may be called comparison.

CHAPTER IX.

COMPARISON AND CONCEPTION.

§ I. Analysis of Comparison.

In comparison we search for relations of likeness and
difference, agreement and disagreement, between objects. It
always occurs as part of a more comprehensive apperceptive
process. It is subservient to the attainment of some ulterior
end, theoretical or practical, and this end constitutes the
impulse and incentive to it. The process itself involves a
peculiar transitive movement of attention from one object of
comparison to the other: the peculiarity of this mental
transition is that attention remains as far as possible fixed
on A, in the very act of fixing it on B. In all relatively
complex cases there is a backward and forward move-
ment of thought; attention is concentrated first on A,
then on B, then again on A, and so forth. The comparison
resolves itself into a series of comparisons between several
distinct features or aspects of the object compared. Let us
take as an instance the comparison of a garden flower with the
same flower as it grows wild. Here the primary motive is the
desire to know whether the flowers are merely varieties of the
same species — or it may be a general interest in the kind of
changes which are produced by cultivation. We compare in
order the different parts of the flower, as our botanical
knowledge has taught us to distinguish them. In passing
from the scrutiny of a given part of A to the corresponding

part of B, we endeavour as far as in us lies to keep in view the

(168)

Comparison and Conception. 169

characters of both at once. As the result of the process there
emerges an apprehension of agreement and difference, together
with a more or less sharp distinction between the points in
which the objects agree and the points in which they differ.
The process is simplified when the comparison has reference
to only one character. Thus we may be called on to match a
particular colour, out of a number of other colours of like
intensity. If the colours differ little in quality from each other
and from that which is to be matched, comparison is necessary,
though in a relatively simple form.

It is obvious that all arrangement in graduated series is
based on c ..mparison of a somewhat complicated kind ; for not
only have the parts of A and B to be compared with each
other, but the degree of likeness and difference between A and
B has to be compared with the degree of likeness and differ-
ence between C and D.

Instances of the kind given belong to an advanced stage of
mental life, in which conceptual thinking has already been
developed. Our present interest is in more rudimentary
forms of the process, which may be regarded as a transition to
conception. Let us suppose that a person sets himself
to do one of those wire or cane puzzles which we owe
to the ingenuity of the Hindus. There are two modes
of procedure open to him : he may work with his head
or with his hands. Usually, if he be experienced he mingles
the two methods ; but for our purpose it is necessary
to place them in sharp contrast. If he is simply fumbling
with his fingers it sometimes happens that he hits on the
right process by accident ; but when this is so, he is unable
to put the puzzle together again, or, when it is put together
for him, to do it the next time he tries. On this m.ethod it is
also a frequent occurrence that he tries repeatedly ways of
manipulation which have proved unsuccessful. Now the
characteristic feature of this method is the failure to compare

170 Analytic Psychology.

with each other the various alternatives which present them-
selves. There is a transition from one attempt to another
attempt ; but the transition is not guided and controlled by-
consideration of the points in which the new attempt differs
from the old. The systematic worker, on the other hand, tries
to make clear to his mind beforehand whether the new trial
will conduct him to the same difficulty which he had en-
countered in preceding trials ; or, if he fails to see this before-
hand, he takes notice of it when it occurs. The specific
modifications of the total apperceptive system, which arise in
each successive stage of the process, apperceive each other ;
and where the mental transition is from alternative to alterna-
tive, this mutual apperception of the several parts of the series
is essentially a process of comparison. This instance is some-
what complicated ; a simpler is afforded by any attempt to fix
in our minds the position of an object, so that we may be able
to find it again. In general, our perception of where a thing
is, is a consequence of perceiving it at all ; but wherever there
is a motive for explicitly defining its whereabouts, so that we
may be sure of remembering it, we find ourselves comparing its
position with that of other objects. The thieves who visited Ali
Baba's house saved themselves the trouble of comparison by
putting a cross on the door ; but when the captain himself came
he probably noted the position of each of the surrounding
objects, and compared it with that of the house, fixing the
points of agreement and difference. The process of imitation
supplies an important group of illustrations. Imitation in its
rudimentary form does not involve comparison. The germ of
it, as Professor Baldwin has pointed out, lies in self-imitation —
a kind of circular process, by which the child goes on repeating
the movements he has found efficient in producing an interest-
ing result. When any interesting object is presented to him,
which resembles consequences he has found to flow from his
own activity, he tends to renew this activity. This is imitation.

Comparison and Conception. 171

But it is not at first accompanied by any attempt to correct
his own performance in conformity with the copy. For this
there is required some special motive ; e.g.^ the desire to speak
intelh'gibly, or to draw Hnes on paper which really bear a
resemblance to the outlines of a man or animal. Hence arise
all stages and degrees of comparison, from the vague recogni-
tion that the result is not that which was aimed at, to the
deliberate submission of the result to the criticism of others,
with the view of finding wherein it comes short.

§ 2. Comparison a Process Distinctive of the
Human Mind.

"The comparing them one with another, in respect of
extent, degrees, time, place, or any other circumstances, is
another operation of the mind about its ideas, and is that upon
which depends all that large tribe of ideas comprehended
under relation. . . . How far brutes partake in this
faculty is not easy to determine. I imagine they have it not in
any great degree : for, though they probably have several
ideas distinct enough, yet it seems to me to be the prerogative
of human understanding, when it has sufficiently distinguished
any ideas, ... to cast about and consider in what
circumstances they are capable to be compared. And there-
fore, I think, beasts compare not their ideas further than some
sensible circumstances annexed to the objects themselves." ^
The opinion here expressed by Locke has met with a very
remarkable confirmation in the recent experimental inquiry of
Mr. Lloyd Morgan into the nature of animal intelligence. He
there shows that the way in which even the higher animals
learn by trial and error, is an extreme form of the process by
which a man solves a puzzle with his hands rather than with

* Locke's Essay concerning Human Understanding (Fraserj, vol. i., pp.
204-203.

172 Analytic Psychology.

his head. Mr. Morgan, for instance, threw a stick into a field
surrounded by railings. A dog, which had been trained to
fetch and carry, bounded after the stick, and brought it back
in his mouth as far as the railings. But here he was confronted
with a difficulty ; he could get through himself, but he
could not get the stick through. His experience had not
taught him that the only way of succeeding was by grasping
the end of the stick ; instead of this, he tugged now here, now
there, in a perfectly uncritical way. If, by accident, he did
get hold of the right end of the stick, or if Mr. Morgan
showed him how to proceed, this seemed to yield him no
assistance on the repetition of the experiment. He had
stumbled on the solution, but could not do the trick again.
This was no casual observation ; it was a systematic experi-
ment repeated day after day, and only one of a course of
similar experiments. It is evident that the dog here passed
from one alternative to another without selective comparison ;
so that when he hit on the right one or was shown it, he
failed to note the points in which it differed from unsuccessful
attempts. It should not of course be hastily inferred that
animals are incapable of comparison ; Locke's cautious state-
ment that " they have it not in any great degree," is probably
the right one. Nor ought we to conclude that animals, even
when they do not compare, cannot learn from experience.
The reverse of this is the case. Even in a blindly tentative
process, the failure of the wrong alternatives will gradually
decrease the chance of their renewal. The unsuccessful
attempt becomes fainter and less persistent until it disappears,
and the converse will hold of the successful attempt. All that
is presupposed for this is the general principle that mental
activity, obstructed in one direction, tends to divert itself into
other channels. Hence, it is possible with sufficient patience
to teach animals tricks without their understanding what they
are doing. The point is that when they learn in this way

Comparison and Conception. 173

they are not aware why one way is right and another wrong.
The right way is simply forced on their attention by the
trainer; or, if they are left to themselves without external
assistance, by the circumstances of the case.

Mr. Morgan, in agreement with Locke, formulates his result
in the denial that animals perceive relations. This is at least
a misleading way of stating the case ; unless we put an
artificial restriction on the meaning of the term relation, it
would imply that animals cannot perceive the position of
objects in space or their motions. Wherever any part of a
whole is distinguished or identified, its relation within that
whole is perceived, however indefinitely. Hence we should
say, not that the perception of relation is deficient in animals,
but only that that definite perception of relation is deficient
which depends on comparison. Comparison is absent inas-
much as the successive moments of an apperceptive process,
though unified by their relation to a common end, fail to enter
into apperceptive relations with each other.

§ 3. Comparison as Rudimentary Conception.

What is conception? Without a clear answer to this
question, all that follows will be unintelligible. Evidently,
conception and perception stand in antithesis to each other.
This antithesis is often represented as identical with that
between the universal and the particular. Now if this is
taken to imply that perception involves no universal element,
it is entirely false and misleading. All thought implies a
universal ; and a perception is a thought. At the least, it
implies distinction and recognition, and so carries with it a
reference to an object which remains the same in its varying
appearances. The transition from the percept to the concept
is not a transition from the merely particular to the universal.
The difference is rather this : in perception universal and

174 Analytic Psychology.

particular are indistinguishably blended ; the universal element
lies entirely in the bare fact that the particular is recognised.
Now the essential character of conception is that in it the
universal is thought of as such, in contradistinction to the
particular ; implicit in the percept, it is explicit in the concept.
We may put the case in terms more strictly psychological.
We have now become familiar with the distinction between
an apperceptive system and the train of presentations which
succeed each other in consciousness, and which are in turn
detained and intensified by movements of fixation. Now,
apart from conception and the conditions on which it depends
the successive parts of this train consist only in particular
images. The universal objective reference involved in re-
cognition, identification, etc., depends upon the connection of
these images with an apperceptive system of which they are
the serial expansion or evolution. Now, if we may put it so,
the problem which conception has to solve is to make
possible the entry of the universal, as such, into this current
of ideas. The apperceptive systems which at the outset exist
for consciousness only in the apprehension of the particulars
which are successively presented must themselves become
parts of the series ; they must become capable of being
detained and dismissed by movements of fixation, and so form
stages in the evolution of a higher system. The universal
must, so to speak, be dragged from the dim background of
consciousness, and thrust into the foreground, there to be
scrutinised and manipulated by the mind. It is language
which makes this possible : how it does so, we shall have to
consider in the next chapter. Here we have to point out that
there is a yet more fundamental factor involved, without which
language would be powerless. This factor is the process
which we have just analysed — comparison.

In comparison we first become conscious of the antithesis
between the particular and the universal. The reason is that

Comparison and Conception. 175

in it we become aware of the universal, as the common
element which connects two clearly distinguished particulars.
Thus the common element stands out in contrast to the
differences ; whereas in mere recognition no such contrast
exists. Apart, therefore, from comparison, there can be no
point of departure for conception.

§ 4. Comparison as Quantitative.

Lotze has pointed out that all comparison between simple
objects, such as colours, sounds, etc., has reference to grada-
tions of quantity. "If . . . we speak of bright blue, dark
blue, black blue, we arrange this manifold in a series or a
network of series, and in each series a third member results
from a second by intensification of the same sensible change
in a common element as that which gave rise to the second
out of the first." ^ Where the gradations are not, as in this
instance, intensive but extensive, that form of comparison
which we call measurement becomes possible. By actually
bringing together two extensive magnitudes in space, we can
not only detect which is greater and which is less, but also by
how much the one differs from the other. Now if we have
two series of measurable gradations, A, B, C, D, etc., and a
/S, 7, S, etc., and if the value of each of these series corresponds
in the way of concomitant variation, quantitative comparison
leads to the apprehension of proportion. We find that a
certain ratio between the terms of the one series A and B,
corresponds to a certain ratio between the terms of the other
series a and /S. When this result is fixed in conceptual
language, or expressed in symbols, there arise those abstract
formulae to which we referred in § 10 of the chapter on
Relative Suggestion. Without the aid of language and of
symbols they could not, of course, come into being. But the

^ Logic, Bosanquet's translation, p. 22

176 Analytic Psychology.

fundamental process involved in their production is that of
measurement ; language and symbols come into play only as
auxiliary to this process, and as perpetuating its results.

§ 5. Conception by Means of Representative
Examples.

This form of conceptual process has received special
attention from English nominalists, such as Hobbes and
Beri^eley. The favourite illustration is drawn from the
practice of mathematicians, who, having a particular triangle
or other figure before them, regard it as representative of the
class to which it belongs, to the neglect of its specific and
individual features. This mode of conception presupposes
comparison ; and it may be that rudimentary phases of it are
possible without the aid of language. There is an error which
must be carefully guarded against in this connection ; the
process is often described as consisting in an exclusive
attention to certain aspects or characteristics of the particular
object, to the disregard of others. But this may take place
without anything that can be properly called generalisation.
I may be exclusively interested in the shape of a thing, rather
than in its colour or other qualities, and yet I may not
regard the thing as representative of other figures resembling
it. It may be that the shape interests me merely because it
is aesthetically pleasing, or because I want to fit it into a
certain compartment. The truth is, that we are on an entirely
false track when we attempt to trace conception, even in its
most rudimentary stages, to inattention. Attention does not
become conception merely by becoming circumscribed and
one-sided. It is even untrue to say sweepingly that when a
particular is regarded as representative of a class, its own
distinguishing features are disregarded. On the contrary, it
is necessary that they should be definitely recognised as
irrelevant. The mere neglect of the particular is not enough ;

Comparison and Conception. 177

we must contra-distinguish identity from differences. If we
follow the proof that the angles of a triangle are together
equal to two right angles, in the case of a particular triangle,
this particular one is for us representative of all others, because,
in the language of Hobbes, we observe that " such equality is
consequent, not to the length of the sides, nor to any other par-
ticular thing in the triangle ; but only to this, that the sides are
straight, and the angles three ".^ In other words, we must
recognise the particular length of the sides, as belonging to a
series of alternative modes in which the universal or identical
character of a triangle may receive specification. What gives
the proof value, is the recognition that specific variations of
this kind do not affect the theorem in its generality, but only
the special manner in which it is exemplified in particular
cases.

In the absence of language, this definite line of demarcation
between what is specific in each case, and the pervading
identity which connects particular cases into a class-
group, can in the first instance have its source only in
comparison, which exhibits particulars at once in their agree-
ment and in their difference. It is in the first instance possible
only by the operation of an apperceptive system, which has
been produced in the process of comparing particulars with
each other.

This mode of conception is necessarily confined within
narrow limits. It presupposes that the common features of
the class may be contained within the object as it is imaged or
mentally pictured ; in other words, it does not go beyond
what Locke calls "certain sensible characters". For this
reason we must refuse to regard it as the normal or ordinary
procedure of the mind in apprehending the universal, as such.
Even the individual considered as the unity of his manifold

» Leviathan, p. 20 (14).
VOL. II. 12

178 Analytic Psychology.

states and actions cannot be conceived in this way. Even
within the limits which we have assigned, it may be reason-
ably doubted whether this mode of conception ever arises
without the aid of language. The conditions most favourable
for it are those in which the class characteristics are such as
can be brought into special salience by appropriate movements
of fixation ; and can so be in a manner detached for separate
consideration from the context in which they occur. In this
way attention may preserve itself from wandering to irrelevant
details or to general aspects of the object other than those
which belong to this or that class concept. Language
supplies a mode of fixing attention which is infinitely wider in
its scope.^ It does not directly intensify and detain the
presented content of an image or percept ; it operates directly
on an apperceptive system, and so fixes and detains a certain
subjective point of view or way of regarding the object.
Without its help it would seem that the process giving
particular ideas universal signification can be at the most only
rudimentary and transient. Such an analysis of a particular
object as is required for its description would be impossible
without language. It presupposes a serial succession of
conceptual attitudes, each bringing out different aspects of the
thing considered, and all combining with each other into a
unity. This implies a distinct and orderly sequence of
different apperceptive processes without mutual interference or
distraction arising from competition. Language effects this by
the singling out for exclusive predominance one system after
another till each in turn has done its work. This happens
both in the process of description and in listening to descrip-
tion, as well as in the observations which make description
possible.

*See chap, x;, § i.

Comparison and Conception. 179

§ 6. Generic Images not Identical with
Rudimentary Concepts.
There is a common way of treating the nature of the
concept to which we have not yet referred. It proceeds on
the assumption that mental images become transformed into
concepts by passing through a certain process of decay.
From this point of view a concept is nothing but a faded
mental picture. The fading must however be of a certain kind
and be due to certain conditions ; it must be such as to
produce a generic image. An image is called generic when it
possesses a distinct and salient centre or core corresponding
to the common characters of a class, together with a vague
and inconstant margin corresponding to the specific features
of the individuals composing the class. Its genesis is admir-
ably described by Professor Huxley : " Now when several
complex impressions which are more or less different from one
another — let us say that out of ten impressions in each, six
are the same in all, and four are different from all the rest —
are successively presented to the mind, it is easy to see what
must be the nature of the result. The repetition of the six
similar impressions will strengthen the six corresponding
elements of the complex idea, which will therefore acquire
greater vividness , while the four differing impressions of each
will not only acquire no greater strength than they had at
first, but, in accordance with the law of association, they will
all tend to appear at once, and will thus neutralise one
another."^ He illustrates by a reference to composite
photographs, in which features common to the faces photo-
graphed come out strongly, while the rest, in which they differ,
are left vague. This illustration has been often repeated, but
it seems to me rather a bad one. The indistinctness in a
composite photograph requires special scrutiny for its de-

^ Hume, pp. 94-95.

i8o Analytic Psychology.

tection. It does not to the ordinary observer look in the least
like a generic image, but like a quite definite portrait of an
individual.

So far as I know, no serious attempt has ever been made to
confront this theory with the ordinary facts of our mental life.
Yet this is a task of no great difficulty. In the first place, we
should, according to the theory, expect generic images to
constitute a separate class of mental pictures, broadly
distinguishable from pictures of particular things and events,
by the peculiar kind and degree of vagueness attaching to
them. But is this really so ? If we leave out of account
unusual developments of the visualising faculty, we may fairly
say that all images, as compared with percepts, are vague, and
it does not appear that the images which are treated as
representative of a class, are more obscure than others, or that
they have a different kind of obscurity. If I trace in my
mind's eye the course of a river, or a walk which I have taken,
and if I do not make any extraordinary effort to recall details,
the images which pass through my mind are mere outline
sketches, in which certain characteristic features of objects
have a certain prominence, while the rest is left vague. Yet
the ideal train is wholly concerned with particulars and not
with universals, as such. Suppose that, on the contrary, I
desire to bring before my mind the general characters
distinctive of the kind of substance called " chalk " and that
for this purpose I call up mentally the image of a piece of
chalk. I find that the kind of image which suits my purpose
best, is one which is much more definite and detailed than
those which serve my turn in recalling a series of particular
facts. On the whole, the obscure and fluctuating character of
a mental image seems rather to unfit it as a vehicle of generalis-
ing thought. It is a fiction to suppose that, apart from the
co-operation of language, the obscurity can be permanently
confined to marginal features, in such a way that the central

Comparison and Conception. i8i

core alone detains attention. The marginal obscurity makes
the whole picture evanescent and fluctuating. The effort to
fix and detain the essential features naturally tends to make
the whole image more definite and detailed. In many
instances a percept better fulfils the function of a class-type than
a pictorial representation. In studying geometry, for instance,
we prefer to have actual diagrams on paper rather than merely
mental diagrams. On the other hand, in recalling particular
facts, generic images are often sufficient, and their fuller
definition an irrelevant superfluity ; because the particular as
ideally represented differs from the particular as presented to
sense-perception. The particularity of the percept consists
in actual contact with physical reality in all its wealth ot
detail. It is represented, as Mr. Bradley has pointed out, by
the word " This," as distinguished from " Thisness ". On the
other hand, when we ideally represent a particular fact as such,
its nature as particular consists in its being referred to a unique
position in a temporal or spatial series. If we can do this
unambiguously, there is no need to picture it in its perceptual
details.

It would seem that the mental imagery of persons who do
not visualise vividly is nearly all of the generic kind. It
would be interesting to know how far and in what way the
mental pictures of those who do visualise vividly differ
according as they have a particular or a general significance.
The statistics collected by Mr. Galton throw little light on
this point. He does indeed observe that persons much
occupied in abstract thinking have vague imagery ; whereas
the contrary is the case with those whose minds are accustomed
to dwell on particulars. This is easily accounted for by the
fact that persons much engaged in abstract reasoning carry on
their trains of thought by means of words and their meanings ;
mental imagery being a more or less superfluous accompani-
ment, if it is present at all. What we want to know is

1 82 Analytic Psychology,

whether distinct visuah'sers visualise more or less distinctly
when they regard the pictured object as representative of a
class. Mr. Galton records an observation which bears on this
point : " Suppose a person suddenly to accost another with
the following words : * I want to tell you about a boat '.
What is the idea that the word ' boat ' would be likely to call
up ? I tried the experiment with this result : One person, a
young lady, said that she immediately saw the image of a
rather large boat pushing off from the shore, and that it was
full of ladies and gentlemen, the ladies being dressed in white
and blue. . . . Another person, vho was accustomed to
philosophise, said that the word boat had aroused no definite
image, because he had purposely held his mind in suspense.
He had exerted himself not to lapse into any one of the
special ideas that he felt the word boat was ready to call up,
such as a skiff, wherry, barge, launch, punt or dingy." ^ Here
it appears that the young lady envisaged the representative
picture of a boat in general with the same kind of determinate
detail as she would have envisaged that of a particular boat.
The generality of the reference did not lead her to form a
generic image. The case of the man is different. It may be
doubted whether he would have formed an image at all,
except perhaps some shadowy fragment of outline, if he had
not been challenged to do so by Mr. Galton's inquiry. In
his case the image performed no essential function in the
conception. The essence of the concept, as it existed for him,
is already presupposed in his purposely holding his mind in
suspense, in his exertion not to lapse into special ideas. This
purposeful exertion was possible only because he had a pre-
notion of a boat in general, and so could mould his mental
picture in accordance with it. This pre-notion was contained
in the simple understanding of the word ; the implicit appre-

* Inquiry into the Human Faculty, p. 109.

Comparison and Conception. 183

hension of its meaning apart from any mental image, whether
generic or not.

We should expect a dim percept to fulfil the same function
as a dim image, and we actually find Professor Huxley
recognising the existence of generic percepts which he straight-
way identifies as percepts of the general in distinction from
the particular : " In dreams, one sees houses, trees and other
objects, which are perfectly recognisable as such, but which
remind one of the actual objects as seen ' out of the corner of
the eye,' or of the pictures thrown by a badly-focussed magic
lantern. A man addresses us who is like a figure seen by
twilight ; or we travel through countries where every feature
of the scenery is vague ; the outlines of the hills are ill-
marked, and the rivers have no defined banks. They are, in
short, generic ideas of many past impressions of men, hills,
and rivers."^ Surely this reduces the whole theory to an
absurdity. The mind is perhaps never further removed from
the conceptual standpoint than it is in dreams. The implica-
tion is that vague perception is in itself generalisation.
Imperfection of the sense-organs ought, on this view, to be a
great help towards conceptual thinking.

§ 7. Functions of Generic Images.

We have contested the theory which would find in the
generic image, as such, the origin of the concept ; but we
freely admit that when a conceptual attitude has once been
attained through the formation of appropriate apperceptive
systems, the generic image is for the most part a more
convenient class-representative than a percept, or a more fully
individualised picture. This is illustrated by the case of the
man to whom Gal ton refers, who exerted himself not to lapse
into any special ideas. The inconvenience attending this use

^Hume, p. 96.

184 Analytic Psychology,

of the generic image is its evanescent and evasive character,
but this inconvenience makes itself felt only where we strive
to dwell on the class characteristics, so as to analyse them, or
to keep them before our mind during a train of reasoning.
Hence examples drawn from geometrical procedure constitute
the stock illustrations of those who, like Berkeley or Hume,
regard the general concept as an object presented in its
detailed particularity, but considered in a certain light, or from
a certain point of view. Where only a passing reference to
class characters is required, the generic image has the special
advantage of saving time and effort. It brings before
consciousness the relevant points without dissipating mental
energy in the task of reviving a mass of specific details. It
should not, however, be forgotten that this salience of the
relevant and obscuration of the irrelevant depends to a very
large extent on the use of general terms. How far, apart
from some kind of language, the mere generic image would
avail as a vehicle of conceptual thinking, it seems impossible
to determine. For us, its use is always connected with that of
general terms ; and, in the case of animals, we have no good
evidence that it fulfils a conceptual office at all. Instances of
deaf mutes who have not learnt a conventional language, and
yet appear to have general ideas, may be thought to point to
an affirmative answer : but we must remember that intelligent
deaf mutes always possess a more or less extensive and
complex gesture-language ; and that gesture-language, more
than any conventional system of sounds, is adapted to assist
in the formation and to sustain the conceptual function of
generic images.

In any case, the part played by the generic image in
memory and expectation of particular things and events, is at
least as important as that which is played in conceptual
thinking. If, in mentally retracing a series of past ex-
periences, we were compelled to go into full detail, an

Comparison and Co7iception. 185

enormous waste of time and energy would be involved. It
would never do to have to take up the whole of to-day in
recalling what we did yesterday ; as a matter of fact we should
only occupy a few minutes, at the most, on such a task. We
simply make an outline sketch, in which the salient characters
of things and events and actions appear, without their
individualising details. Mere forgetfulness in part helps to
make this possible ; but the generic image is an immense
assistance. If I picture myself as eating my breakfast at the
beginning of the day, it is enough to have a generic image of
the breakfast-table and of myself sitting at it, and possibly of
the food presented to me. I pass over the details connected
with the arrangement of the breakfast-table, and the succession
of particular incidents which took up the half-hour spent in
eating. Hence it is possible for me to recall the whole event
of taking breakfast, which occupied half an hour, in the
fraction of a minute, and then to pass on to something else.

We must finally call attention to a peculiarity of the generic
image which, though it does not establish its claim to be
called an embryo concept, yet prepares the way for conception
and assists the conceptual process. I refer to its effect on the
flow of ideas. In a generic image suggestion by contiguity in
time and space is obstructed ; the several diverging lines of
association tend to neutralise each other. Where there is a
special motive for recalling a time or space series, the result
of this is a leap from one generic image to another with
omission of intermediate detail ; but where there is no special
interest in reviving a train of particulars, the result is that
suggestion by similarity tends to substitute itself for suggestion
by contiguity. In this way the flow of ideas breaks loose
from the order prescribed by the succession of percepts.
Occasions are afforded for comparison which would otherwise
not occur. Whether, and in what degree, the mind avails
itself of these, depends upon its previous development, and

1 86 Analytic Psychology.

upon the controlling interest of the moment In idle reveries
such suggestions frequently occur with little or no attempt at
comparison or systematic arrangement. When this is so, we
have what has been called reproductive imagination, as
opposed to memory and expectation. " It consists," as
Dr. Ward says, " in a shifting play of images more or less
* generic,' reminding one of ' dissolving views '." *

§ 8. Intuitional Thinking.

In the next chapter we shall have to consider at length the
dependence of thought on language. As a preliminary to
this, it must be pointed out that this dependence is far from
absolute. Even complex trains of thought may be wordless ;
the phrase " independent of language " is, however, ambiguous ;
it may mean that a certain mental process is possible antece-
dently to language, or it may mean that though the process
would be impossible for a mind which had not been educated
by the use of verbal signs, yet it can nevertheless take place
without them. As my main concern is with the analysis of
mental operations in the developed consciousness, and not
with their genetic evolution, the phrase is here used in the
second sense. From this point of view there can be no doubt
that many trains of thought are independent of language and
even of generic images fulfilling in a rudimentary way the
functions of language. A train of ideas is a train of thought
in so far as its successive parts are progressive stages in the
construction of an ideal whole according to a plan. Thought
appears to be independent of language and of analogous signs
only when the constituents of this ideal whole are capable of
being definitely imaged, or presented in sense-perception, so
that they can be made prominent and detained by movements
of fixation. This condition is fulfilled in the comparison of

* Article on " Psychology," Encyc. Brit., gth edition, part 77, p. 63.

Comparison and Conception. 187

particular objects with reference to their obvious sensible
characters. Such pictorial presentation is sufficient for the
purposes of thought when " perfectly individualised connections
in time and space are in question "?■ Thinking of this kind
we may, following the example of Steinthal, call intuitional
thinking. Intuitional thinking may require strenuous and
persistent intellectual exertion and high intellectual power.
In these respects, it is perhaps not inferior to that kind of
thought which depends on language. In playing chess, in
manipulating algebraical symbols, in constructing a piece of
machinery, words or equivalent signs are not for the most pari
required. According to the testimony of Galton, and others
who possess a turn for machinery, thought about mechanism
does not depend on language, but on " mental imagery,"
immediately exhibiting the relations constitutive of the whole
which the movement of attention is constructing. Aphasic
patients, who have almost entirely lost command of language,
may yet retain intact their skill at chess or cards. It may
appear strange that I have adduced the manipulation of
algebraical symbols as an example of intuitional thinking. In
so far as the algebraist in operating with symbols requires to
be guided by a sense of their significance, he is, perhaps,
thinking in signs analogous to those of languageo But in so
far as he proceeds merely according to certain prescribed rules
of operation, disregarding for the time being the interpretation
of his symbols, his mode of thinking is intuitional. This will
appear more clearly when in chap, x., § i, we distinguish
expressive signs from other signs.

§ 9. In what Sense Intuitional Thinking Involves

Generalisation.

If we except the process of comparison, the successive

objects of the train of ideas in intuitional thinking and the

^ Bosanquet's Essentials of Logic, p. 80.

i88 Analytic Psychology.

ideal whole which results from their synthesis are not general
but particular. On the other hand, the plan of combination
according to which these objects succeed each other in the
focus of consciousness and unite to form a whole, is not
particular but general. This general plan is not, however, as
such, a part of the train ; in emerging out of implicit into
explicit apprehension, the general scheme becomes parti-
cularised ; it becomes embodied in those concrete and
determinate relations of concrete and determinate elements
which constitute the product of the process. The universal
element in intuitive thinking is never itself attended to in
contradistinction from its particular embodiment : it is to be
found only in the apperceptive activity which gives interest
and significance to the serial process as a whole. It controls
the working of the associations by which presentations succeed
each other in the focus of consciousness, so that by relative
suggestion a specifically new whole is constructed on the
model of a preformed type. A chess-player need not in actual
play think about the general laws of the game or about
general maxims derived from previous experience. It is much
nearer the truth to say that he thinks by means of such laws or
maxims than that he thinks about them. His insight into
the dangers and advantages of a particular position, the
particular move which suggests itself to him at any moment
his prevision of the line of play which is likely to be adopted
by his adversary, are all due to the operation of an appercep-
tive system which has become organised in the course of
previous experience. This system is the unity in which are
combined the connected products of many particular ex-
periences. It is therefore universal. But its universality is
exhibited only in the general plan of synthesis by which
particular objects of attention are interconnected so as to
form an intuitional whole. The universal, as such, is not
distinguished and identified. Hence there is no need for

Comparison and Conception. 189

words ; for the word, as we have seen, is a movement of

fixation which performs the same functions in regard to

universals as other movements of fixation do in regard to
percepts and images.^

1 " Words are needed when we have to attend to the general plan of
any system, as in thinking about organisms with reference to their type,
or about political relations — about anything, that is, which is not of such
a nature that the members of the idea can be symbolised in pictorial
form. It would be difficult, for example, to comprehend the respiration
of plants under a symbolic picture-idea drawn from the respiration of
the higher animals. The relations which constitute a common element
between the two processes do not include the movements, feelings, and
visible changes in the circulatory fluid from which our imgige of animal
respiration is chiefly drawn ; and we could hardly frame a pictorial idea
that would duly insist on the chemical and organic conditions on which
the common element of the process depends. In a case of this kind the
word is the symbol which enables us to hold together in a coherent
system, though not in a single image, the relations which make up the
content of our thought " (Bosanquet, Thi Essentials 0/ Logic, pp. 80-81)

CHAPTER X.
THOUGHT AND LANGUAGE.

§ I. The Essential Functions of Language.

Language, in the widest application of the term, includes

the natural signs of gesture language, the conventional signs

of the manual language taught to deaf mutes, and all kinds

of written language as well as articulate speech. We may for

the present confine ourselves to the consideration of articulate

sounds, and regard these as the type of other systems of signs

which perform a like function. Language in this sense has its

origin in a simple association by contiguity between an

"articulation-sound complex" and a percept. Initially this

associative connection is devoid of anything which can be

called significance. The sound has no other relation to the

percept than that of mere juxtaposition in time. It is entirely

detached from the system of relations which interconnect the

parts and qualities of the perceived object into a whole. The

utterance of the sound and the hearing of it produce no

change in the object : and the presence or absence of the

object is in no way a condition of the production of the sound.

The interest of the sound arises, in the first instance, not from

its connection with the percept, but from its connection with

the person who utters it. The child takes pleasure in emitting

more or less articulate sounds before it begins to understand

spoken words. Hence the sounds uttered by others have a

special interest for him, and he early shows a disposition to

(190)

Thought and Language. 191

imitate them. The persons surrounding him frequently repeat
certain names when his attention is engaged with certain
objects. Hence the first association between name and thing ;
but the name is at the outset not a name for the child, it is
merely a special sound associated with a special percept
in a quite casual and indefinite way. Now it is precisely
the casual and indefinite nature of the connection which
facilitates the transformation of the sound into a name. The
sound does not enter into the network of associations compre-
hended under the percept. Instead of occupying a distinct
place within the perceptual synthesis, it is associated with the
percept as a whole. Its occurrence is quite independent of
the presentation of its associate. It thus becomes a means
of fixing the attention of the child on the object when it
would otherwise pass unnoticed or comparatively unnoticed.
This is effected by exciting the appropriate apperceptive
group. The sound of the word tends to call into renewed
activity the psychical disposition left behind by the previous
experiences in which it has occurred. Thus if the object is at
hand, the word serves to call into play the right apperceptive
system to meet it. The word is thus a means by which other
persons can fix the child's attention on this or that object ; it
is also a means by which the child fixes his own attention :
even when it is in the first instance uttered by another person,
its full efficacy depends upon the child himself repeating it or
attempting to repeat it. When he has thus learned the
command which it gives him over the direction of his own
thoughts, he soon becomes able to use it independently of
external prompting : it is an instrument which he finds at his
disposal for the performance of the work in which he is keenly
and persistently interested — that of examining the world around
him and making himself intellectuallyat home in it. It also gives
him another power of equal value, that of directing the attention
of others to the objects in which he is interested.

192 Analytic Psychology.

We are now in a position to assign the essential function of
language in its relation to thought. It is one movement of
fixation among others, but it possesses certain distinctive
peculiarities of the utmost importance. Other modes of fixa-
tion, such as the various muscular adjustments of the sense-
organs, are merely modes of detaining and intensifying sensory
presentations. They may in the main be regarded as constitu-
ent parts of the images and percepts which they detain and
intensify, and hence they cannot occur antecedently to these
and evoke them. It is quite otherwise with words. Their
efficacy is due to their association with the cumulative product
of previous experience. Hence what they fix and detain \s
not a sensible presentation, as such, but an apperceptive system.
They are not constituent parts of this system, but are merely
associated with it. Thus they may occur antecedently to it
and so call it into operation. With this point is connected
another of the greatest consequence ; words are not merely
means by which a person can fix the direction of his own
attention ; they are also means by which he can fix the atten-
tion of others. It is, as we have seen, through experience of
the control exercised by others upon the direction of his own
attention that the child learns to use language himself as a
tool for thinking with. It is evident that the two functions of
language, (i) as a means of communication, (2) as an instru-
ment of thought, are inseparably connected and interdepen-
dent. The child, in the very act of understanding what others
say, learns to understand himself. The word, as used by
others, is significant for him because of the distinctive part it
plays in his own mental activity ; and, on the other hand, it
is just because he has learned its use in his own thought-
processes, that he is enabled intelligently to use it as a means
of determining the thoughts of others.

Words, and all presentations which discharge an analogous
function, may be called expressive signs. As such, they must

Thought and Language. 193

be carefully distinguished from (i) suggestive signs, (2) sub-
stitute signs.

A suggestive sign merely calls up a certain idea, which may
then be attended to independently of it. When we purposely
associate A with B, so that A may on occasion remind us of
B or indicate the actual presence of B, we are using A, not as
a means of expressing a meaning, but only as a mnemonic
help. The essential point of difference is that A, when it has
once suggested B, is of no further use and may be altogether
dismissed. B, when once it emerges, can be understood and
attended to without any further reference to A. Thus, in
chess-playing, the shape of a knight serves only to remind the
player that he can make certain moves with it. But it does
no more. The moves themselves must be made the immediate
object of attention. They cannot be attended to mediately
through any sign which suggests them. Similarly, the chalk-
mark placed by the robber on Ali Baba's door was a sugges-
tive sign. It was merely a means of identifying a certain
object ; when once it had performed this service, it might be
rubbed out. In general, suggestive signs serve only to bring
something to mind : they are not a means of minding it when
once it is recalled. An expressive sign, on the contrary, is a
means of attending to its signification.

Expressive signs differ from substitute signs in a manner
exactly the inverse of that in which they differ from suggestive
signs. A suggestive sign has fulfilled its purpose and becomes
of no further avail so soon as it has suggested its meaning.
A substitute sign is a counter which takes the place of its
meaning ; so long as it fulfils its representative function, it
renders useless all reference to that which it represents. The
counters are manipulated according to certain rules of opera-
tion, until a certain result is reached, which is then interpreted.
The operator may be actually unable to interpret the inter-
mediate steps. Algebraical and arithmetical symbols are to a
VOL. II. 13

194 Analytic Psychology.

great extent used as mere substitute signs. The same is true
of the symbols employed in formal logic. It is possible to use
signs of this kind whenever fixed and definite rules of opera-
tion can be derived from the nature of the things symbolised.
so as to be applied in manipulating the signs without further
reference to their signification. A word is an instrument for
thinking about the meaning which it expresses ; a substitute
sign is a means of not thinking about the meaning which it
symbolises.

§ 2. Language and the Train of Ideas.

In the preceding section we have reduced the conception of
language to its lowest terms. We have assigned the minimum
which is requisite to constitute a word. We have not even
assumed the existence of trains of ideas. It is true that the
association between name and thing can only take place at a
period of mental development when the child is beginning to
become capable of ideal representations. But the efficacy of
the name in fixing attention on a sensible object depends
merely on its function as the prompting cue of an apperceptive
system, and does not necessarily involve the revival of a
mental image. It is possible that if the object were not
present, the idea of it would not be called up by the word,
which is nevertheless capable of prompting and assisting
attention to the percept.

We now pass to another function of words, which is of
especial importance in early stages of mental development.
The word can discharge its essential and indispensable
psychical function without necessarily calling up an associated
mental image ; but the calling up of mental images is a very
important part of its ofifice. Indeed language is a most
potent factor in the growth of ideal representation. An image
may be either called up by another image, or by a percept.
The percept has the greater reproductive efficacy ; it reinstates

Thought and Language. 195

its associate more vividly and distinctly, and with greater ease
and certainty. From the nature of the case, the earliest trains
of ideas must consist in memories and expectations having
their starting-point in sense-perception. Now the spoken
word shares in a high degree the reproductive efficacy
characteristic of a percept. But it is linked with its associate
under conditions essentially different from those under which
a memory train is formed. The association between the
successive parts of a memory train is ultimately traceable to a
corresponding series of external events ; hence if one link in
the chain is to be given in perception so as to revive another
in idea, the order of nature must bring about at least a partial
renewal of the original train of external occurrences. It is quite
otherwise with the "articulation-sound complex"; the occasions
for its perceptual existence are quite independent of the
occasions which determine the perceptual existence of its
associate. Thus ideal revival by its means becomes indepen-
dent of the recurrence of connected trains of external events.
What is of still more importance is that the production of the
word-percept always lies within the power of the subject
himself, and is not affected by external circumstances. He
can command it at will, and he has therefore a corresponding
command over its associate image. "With young children
and uncultured minds— who, by the way, commonly 'think
aloud ' — the gain in this respect is probably more striking than
those not confined to their mother-tongue or those used to an
analytical handling of language at all realise." ^ In the minds
of such persons mental trains are mainly pictorial, and actual
utterance or at any rate subdued articulation gives them a
power to detain and vivify their mental pictures, which more
than compensates for the expenditure of time and energy

» Dr. Ward's article, " Psychology," Encyc. Brit., 9th edition, No.
77. P- 76.

196 Analytic Psychology.

which it involves. It should however be noted that even
internal speech may to a large extent fulfil a similar function.
Articulate sounds are capable of being reproduced with
unique distinctness, strength and freedom. We have drawn
attention to this point in a previous chapter. " Let any one
select for mental experimentation any word or sentence ; he
will find that he has almost as great a control over the internal
articulation as over the external. The chief restriction
appears to lie in the inability to make the represented sound
as loud as the actual sensation, but, apart from this, one may
do almost what one likes with it." ^ As internal speech thus
approximates in freedom, facility, and distinctness to external
speech, it has an analogous reproductive efficacy. Of course
this control over internal articulation is only acquired by
practice ; and it is therefore natural to children and un-
educated persons to have recourse to actual utterance.

Inasmuch as a name is impartially associated with the
presentation of different objects of a class, and with the same
object on different occasions, it will tend to call up a generic
rather than an individualised image. When the image is par-
ticularised, this is due to concurrent conditions determining the
course of suggestion. Now whatever advantages a generic
image may possess for the purposes of thought are immensely
enhanced by its connection with the name ; and whatever
disadvantages may arise from its evasive and fluctuating
character are thereby in a great measure counterbalanced.
The association of the name with constant characters has been
strengthened by repetition ; and its association with variable
characters has been correspondingly enfeebled. It thus tends
to revive the central core of the generic image, rather than the
vague and fluctuating margin. When the image is vanishing,
as it is specially apt to do just because its generic character

^ Bk. ii., chap, ii., p. 215.

Thought and Language. 197

renders ineffectual in its case the ordinary movements of
fixation, the repetition of the word retains or recalls it

§ 3. Combination of Words.

The distinction between the particular and the universal is
foreshadowed in the very simplest function of the name — that
of fixing attention on a perceived object. The same apper-
ceptive system is excited in a twofold way : it is excited by a
name, and it is also excited by a sense-impression. The apper-
ceptive system as a permanent mental possession is capable of
apperceiving on different occasions different impressional
experiences. It is applicable to different things of the same
class, and to the same thing under different circumstances.
Now the name excites it as a whole, without imposing on it
any specific limitation. The sense-impression, on the contrary,
in exciting it also particularises it. Thus there is a contrast
between the part played by the name, and the part played by
the sense-impression, corresponding to the antithesis between
universal and particular. This contrast may be regarded as
an anticipation on a lower level of the distinction between
predicate and subject. The apperceptive system as particu-
larised by the sense-experience is subject ; as excited in its
generality by the name, it is predicate. If we were to claim
for this antithesis of universal and particular the title of an
inchoate conception, we should, I think, be at least more in the
right than those who search for the beginnings of conception
in the generic image, as such. But the distinction is at first so
vague that we prefer to regard it rather as foreshadowing the
conceptual attitude, than as actually exemplifying it.

Language gives birth to conceptual thinking only when
words are combined in a context.^ We must take into

^We here disregard the use of names in prompting and facilitating
comparison, which will be referred to in a later section.

198 Analytic Psychology.

account not isolated names, but names so conjoined in
successive order as to excite in combination distinct apper-
ceptive systems, v^^hich apperceive each other, and unite in a
complex whole, without losing their relative independence.
To understand how this takes place, the analysis of the
function of detached names must be carefully borne in mind.
The conjoint operation of words is conditioned by their
separate operation.

Consider such a percept as that of a flying sparrow. Suppose
that we are simply watching the sparrow without formulating
what we observe in a proposition, such as. The sparrow flies.
In this wordless perception, the mental disposition F left
behind by previous experiences of flying, and the mental
disposition S left behind by previous experiences of sparrows,
are both appercipient ; but there is not any definite antithesis
in consciousness between two points of view; there is no
analysis of the total phenomenon into its two constituents —
the sparrow and its flight. In this respect there is a broad
contrast between wordless perception, and that which finds
expression in a proposition. In the wordless perception of the
flying bird the two systems, F and 5, are stimulated and
particularised by a single wave of excitation. Though we
speak of them as two, they are not, properly speaking, t%vo for
the percipient. When the verbal formula comes into play, the
case is altered. Each word, as it successively emerges,
stimulates only its own appropriate system ; and, as often as
it is repeated, it fixes and detains this rather than the other.
The two points of view are held apart, instead of being
inseparably blended. They are held apart, however, without
losing their connection as constituents of the total perception.
The whole object is thus analysed into two parts — the sparrow
and its flight. At the same time these two parts are appre-
hended as constituents of a whole, so that the analysis is
accompanied by a synthesis. The flight is apprehended as

Thought and Language, 199

the flight of a sparrow, and the sparrow is apprehended as
flying.

The distinction between the two constituents of the
perceived objects, is also a distinction between the universal
and the particular. Not that one constituent is exclusively-
particular, and the other exclusively universal ; both are at
once particular and universal, relatively to each other. The
apperceptive system F produces a specific limitation of S, and
S produces a specific limitation of F . The same act, e.g.,
flying, may be performed by many different agents. Other
birds fly besides sparrows. Other animals, such as the bat,
fly as well as birds. The boy's kite also flies. Thus to
assign the agent in any case is to particularise the general act
of flying. So, too, flying is only a particular mode of a bird's
existence. Birds may hop on the ground, or sit on a nest.
Thus to specify what the bird is doing at any moment is to
particularise the general view of it as a bird.

Of course we need not assume that the distinction between
action in general and special agents, and between agents in
general and special action, emerges into consciousness in its
full definiteness merely through the combination of appropriate
words in a single instance. The name of the same or similar
agents will be repeatedly combined in analogous manner with
the names of varying actions, and that of an action with those
of varying agents. The same kind of action will also be again
and again perceived and verbally expressed, in connection
with the same kind of agent. These varying recurrences of
the processes we have analysed, will register themselves as
modifications of the mental preformation ; hence in subsequent
apperceptive processes the antithesis between universal and
particular will become more and more definite and salient It
will be especially salient and definite when ideal revival, aided
by language, takes the place of actual perception. Form this
case what occurs is not so much a conceptual analysis of what

200 Analytic Psychology.

is already given in the way of perception, as a construction
in which the concrete image emerges through conceptual
synthesis. The conditions are even more favourable when
one kind of action is ideally revived while another is perceived.
Here actual comparison co-operates with the analytic-synthetic
function of language.

In referring to the antithesis of universal and particular,
we have so far had in view mainly a special form of it.
The term universal has been tacitly taken as equivalent
to general^ and the term pat'ticular as equivalent to
instance or exa^nple. We have taken into account only
the distributive universal, represented by the class-name.
This point of view is almost forced upon us so long as
the only source of conceptual thinking which we consider
is comparison. But generality is only one form of univer-
sality ; and its main importance depends on its connection
with other forms. Wherever a multiplicity is in any
manner unified, wherever there is a relation of whole and
part, wherever an identity pervades and connects differences,
there is an antithesis of universal and particular. The
antithesis between agent and action is a case in point. An
agent is not merely a member of a class ; it has a continuous
individual existence, embracing manifold states and activities,
successive and simultaneous. In the proposition, The bird flies
the special act of flying is distinguished as a particular phase
in the continuous existence of the bird. The special function
of proper names is to fix attention on this kind of universal.
In the sentence John eats, the word John excites an apper-
ceptive system, which combines in systematic unity the
results of the speaker's previous experiences of John's states
and acts, and of their interconnection. It does not stand for
a particular object, but for a system of which only the ultimate
components are particulars. John is not a determinate image
but a universal, which, as such, includes within it a multiplicity

Thought and Language. 201

of determinations incapable of being united in any percept or
mental picture. When the word John is followed by the word
eats, the corresponding mental systems are excited to activity,
and they apperceive each other. The result is that the
specific act of eating is singled out as a special phase in John's
total existence, and set in conscious antithesis to this as the
particular to the universal.

It is unnecessary to go into detail concerning other forms of
the universal. What has been said about ar;s, as represented
by words, evidently applies also to states and qualities, as
represented by adjectives. A spatial whole is in like manner
capable of being conceptually analysed and reconstructed by
separately naming its parts and their relations to each other.
This involves the use of prepositions. So too the whole, which
is constituted by an action originating in one thing, and
terminating in or directed towards another, is analysed by
naming the agent, the activity, and the object. The name of
the action stands for the total process, agent and object being
special determinations of it. The different modes in which it
terminates in or is directed towards an object may be verbally
expressed by different prepositions or case-endings. Other
special modifications of an activity, as distinguished from the
activity in general, are expressed by adverbs. Degrees of
resemblance and difference are marked by the comparatives of
adjectives and by such words as more or less. Here the whole
which is analysed is a graduated scale of quantity or quality.
It would be tedious, even if it were possible, to refer to all kinds
of universality. In conclusion, we must notice that all other
antitheses between universal and particular are only appre-
hended in connection with the antithesis between the general
and its special instances. A whole is conceptually distinguished
from its constituent parts only because a similar form of
combination has repeatedly occurred with varying components,
or because the constituents have appeared in other forms of

202 Analytic Psychology.

combination. It is this which accounts for the common
tendency of psychologists to identify the general, as such, with
the universal, as such.

§ 4. The Social Factor.

It does not belong to our present purpose to discuss the
origin of language. We have throughout assumed, and shall
continue to assume, a society already in possession of a system
of verbal signs. Our primary problem concerns the relation
of words to thought in the individual members of such a
society. But the use of words as instruments of thinking
is inseparably bound up with their use as means of com-
munication. It will therefore be advantageous, both in
view of what has preceded and of what is to follow, to
define and distinguish the chief modes in which the function
of language in the mental processes of the individual is con-
ditioned by the function of language as a medium of
social intercourse.

In the first place, the social function of language supplies
continually a powerful impulse and incentive to thought.
Practical needs, curiosity, personal interest in others, per-
petually depend for their gratification on the individual
being able to understand what others say, and to say what
others can understand. Just as the felt need for control
over his immediate material environment leads the child to
explore with hand and eye objects of perception, so the felt
need for control over his social environment prompts him to
search for the meaning of words and sentences. To omit
reference to this influence of the social factor in discussing
the relation of language to thought, would be like describing
the mechanism of a steam-engine, without referring to the
motor power of the steam.

In the second place, language as a social possession is a

Thought and Language. 203

means of guiding the thought-processes of individuals in
directions which have already been successfully followed up by
others. Thus the individual in his intellectual progress finds
paths already marked out for him, instead of having to find
his way through a trackless labyrinth. Let us suppose that
the child's attention is attracted by a somewhat unfamiliar
object, which he has difficulty in identifying. Instead of being
left to his own unaided apperceptive processes, he may receive
guidance and help from those around him. It may be that at
the outset a number of alternative systems compete with each
other in his mind. Some bystander names the object ; the
name, if it be at all familiar, singles out one apperceptive
system to the exclusion of others, and removes the mental
distraction. If the name is unfamiliar, it will nevertheless
form the starting-point for the formation of an apperceptive
system. The desire to understand it will arouse attention
whenever it occurs, and will lead to comparison of different
instances of its application. But even on its first application
the child may be enabled to understand more or less definitely
its significance by the assistance of others. The bystander,
instead of merely naming the object, may proceed, by a
combination of words, to draw attention successively to its
distinctive features and their interconnection. He thus
invokes appropriate apperceptive systems in suitable order, and
these, by the analytic-synthetic process described in the last
section, combine into the single system which is required for
understanding the nature of the object. In this way external
influence produces an orderly evolution of apperceptive
moments where otherwise there would be chaotic competition.
The difference is comparable to that between the unguided
movements of a mob and the disciplined movements of an
army. A good example of the way in which the systematic
organisation of language as a social possession gradually leads
up to a corresponding organisation of thought-process in the

204 Analytic Psychology.

individual mind is afforded by the way in which the child
learns to distinguish and combine the parts of speech.
Initially, a sentence is not a sentence for the child. Either
the whole verbal combination acts on his mind as if it were
one word, or some portion of it alone is significant to him.
Thus he himself in speaking is for a long time apt to use single
words which stand for vague unanalysed objects. "When
the child says * up,' for example, that word is indicative of a
certain mode v:>f sense-experience — the experience of being
lifted. . . . We must not be misled by the fact that the word
' up' is used as a preposition, into saying that the child is here
employing a preposition. . . . Nor is the word to be
regarded as a sentence, but simply as a definite sound which
he has learnt to associate with a particular piece of objective
sense-experience." ^ It is only by the recurrence of the same
sounds in varying combinations that each acquires its dis-
tinctive function. The part played by each becomes restricted
and defined by the action of the others. Thus, to borrow a
metaphor from Lotze, the stones out of which the later
structure of thought is to be built are gradually hewn into shape.
In opposition to Lotze, however, we must insist that the only
effective means by which they can be fashioned, is their own
interaction. They must mould each other — and at this point
the metaphor fails us ; for their interaction is not comparable
to mutual friction, and they can have nothing of the hardness
of stones.

Finally, it is due to the operation of the social factor that
words carry with them not only a reference to the objects
they denote, but also to the minds of other persons, and their
thoughts and feelings concerning these objects. We noted at
the outset, that the " articulation-sound complex " which
becomes transformed into a word, is initially associated with

^ Lloyd Morgan's Psychology for Teachers, p. 171.

Thought and Language. 205

the person who utters it, and primarily derives its interest
from this association. The constant use of words as means of
communication preserves this personal reference, which clings
to them even in silent thought. Thus language is the chief
agent in constituting what has been called " the social object ".
The individual is perpetually prompted so to formulate his
thoughts as to render them intelligible to others as well as to
himself.

§ 5. Comparison as Conditioned by Conceptual
Analysis and Synthesis.

The conceptual analysis of objects by means of language
reacts on the process of comparison and is in turn influenced
by it. In the first place, the several points of view connected
with the different words applicable to the same complex
object yield separate points of departure for comparison.
Thus if we have two objects X and F, and if X has been
conceptually analysed into the constituents abed, and Y into
the constituents a /S 7 S, it becomes possible to search
successively for the likeness and difference of a and a, b and /3,
c and 7. Within each of these processes taken separately
language again plays an important part. It makes possible
an analysis of the nature of the agreement and difference of
the terms compared. Thus we are enabled to say that a is
a in so far as both a and a contain a general character A, and
that they differ inasmuch as A in the one case has the modifica-
tion in^ and in the other the modification 7«,. This presupposes,,
of course, that in^ and in^, although they are relatively specific,
have yet a generality which has made it possible to refer to
them by a word or a combination of words. Thus we may
say of two objects that both are purple, but that the one is a
blue purple and the other a red purple. Comparison is most
fruitful where in a number of different instances of the general

2o6 Analytic Psychology,

character^, the modifications m^ m^ m^ etc.. form a graduated
series, so that their differences are reducible to varying degrees
in the same quality or qualities, and expressible in terms of
comparison stating their relative positions in the series.
When this point has been reached, the difference of any two
terms m^ and m^ will be apprehended as a kind of distance
constituted by the intervening terms tn^ m^ m^, which connect
and separate them. Through this mediation it becomes
possible to recognise an identity of character between objects
which otherwise would not have come into comparison at all.
A purple, which might otherwise simply pass for a red, may
be identified when it occurs in its place in the series of
transitions from blue to red. In this way also it becomes
possible to form a graduated scale of differences, uniting by
intermediate terms extremes which would otherwise never
come into comparison. In this way, for instance, it becomes
possible to regard the straight, line as a special case of the
ellipse. Mr. Bosanquet refers to the impression made on him
by the collection of flint instruments in Salisbury museum.
He had previously found it hard to believe that the rude
specimens shown him were really due to human hands ; but
conviction was immediately carried to his mind when he saw
a collection arranged in a graduated series from the clumsiest
productions of primitive man to the most finished works of
modern art^ Reference may also be made to types of structure
in natural history and comparative anatomy.

§ 6. The Explication of Concepts.

Let us now go back to the point which we had reached at
the end of § 3. We there showed how language becomes the
means of analysis of a perceived object into conceptual con-
stituents, and of its concomitant reconstruction by conceptual

i Thi Essentials of Logic, p. 144,

Thought and Language. 207

synthesis. We mentioned also that when this synthetic-
analytic process is revived in idea apart from the perceived
presence of the object, the constructive aspect of the process
assumes a relative priority and predominance. The mental
picture is apt to be vague, until the successive emergence of
the moments of the conceptual process has given it determinate
form. Even then it often remains a mere generic image.
This will be best illustrated by the movement of ideas which
takes place in the mind of a person listening to a description
of an object which he has never himself seen. We may
suppose that the purpose of the describer is to evoke in the
mind of the listener as determinate an image as possible of the
thing described. " We wish to describe quicksilver to a
child. We say that it is something like this pewter in its
brightness and the way it reflects the light ; it is even heavier
than this lead ; it is liquid like water, so that I could pour it
from one vessel to another. And we might further qualify
each of these statements so as to render them more exact." ^
Now if this process be carried far enough, it is quite possible to
produce in the child's mind a fairly definite mental picture ;
but this picture only arises gradually, as one item of the
description succeeds another. Detailed imagery connecting
itself with the several words as they fall one after another on the
ear of the listener, is a mere superfluous incumbrance. Irrele-
vant and inappropriate details suggested by preceding words
are annulled and suppressed by succeeding. Even in the end
it is quite possible that the mental image may be very vague.
Supposing it to be definite, it may none the less be felt to be
untrustworthy. But it does not follow that the conception of
the object called quicksilver is correspondingly untrustworthy
or vague. For the word quicksilver is not only associated
with the image, but also with the process of conceptual

1 An illustration given by Mr. Lloyd Morgan, o^. ctV., p. 178.

2o8 Analytic Psychology.

synthesis. There are two ways in which the mind may
bring into explicit consciousness the meaning of a word. It
may translate it into an equivalent combination of other words,
so as to reconstruct it by successive syntheses of its conceptual
constituents ; or it may call up a mental picture of the object
named. We may call the one the verbal, and the other the
intuitional, explication of a concept. Explication here means
a serial expansion of the apperceptive system with which a
name is connected. In minds accustomed to abstract thinking,
verbal explication usually takes the place of, or at least
predominates over, intuitional, even when translation into
imagery is easily practicable. But in the case of certain
concepts there are difficulties in the way of the intuitional
procedure, which make the verbal more or less compulsory.
The greater is the multiplicity of distinct features which the
conceived object unites within it, the more difficult is it to
bring them together in a single picture. In reading a minute
botanical description of a plant, fragmentary images of its
various parts may occur to the mind ; and yet we may be
unable in the end to gather together these detached bits of
imagery into a whole. The same thing may happen even in
the case of a plant we have previously observed ourselves and
scrutinised in detail. The difficulty is transformed into an
intrinsic impossibility when the complex whole comprises
constituents which cannot from the nature of the case be
observed together. From this point of view we may say that
the more we know about a thing, the less we are able to
represent it adequately in a mental picture. If our conception
of a certain plant includes not merely the features of its
external appearance, but its internal structure as revealed by
a microscopic examination of its tissues, in all kinds of sections
and cross-sections, the complex multiplicity of distinct
characters which it includes cannot be mentally envisaged at
once. They can only be brought before consciousness in a

Thought and Language. 209

series. It is possible that this might be done without words ;
but it is hardly ever accomplished in this way. The process
is always to a large extent one in which the mind describes
the object to itself. In such instances as this the object can
be more or less adequately imaged piecemeal, though not as
a whole.

But the difficulty may arise from the generality of the
concept, as well as from its complexity. The best statement
of this point is to be found in Lotze. " The comparison of
individual men . . . produces a universal image ; not indeed
in the sense that the universal man can really be painted, but
in the sense of the illustrations in a natural history, which
purport by one camel or horse to exhibit all camels or horses
clearly to perception, in a form which is more than a mere
scheme or symbol ; or again in the sense of geometry, in which
a drawn triangle, though necessarily individual with others
existing beside it, yet represents all these others, and in a
similarly perceptible form. But this possibility vanishes when
we ascend to higher universals, in which these universal
images are themselves included in their turn as species : the
universal mammal, which is neither horse nor camel nor is
otherwise named, cannot even be drawn in a schematic form,
any more than the polygon can which has neither three, four,
or any other definite number of sides. Thus these higher
universals are no longer apprehended in perception, but only
in thought, by means of a formula or equation, which pre-
scribes essentially the same relation between various related
points, but leads to quite different perceptible configurations,
accordingly as the previously undetermined values of these
points and their various connections are differently determined
in thought."^ In the case of such abstract, or, as we may say,
attenuated universals, the image of a particular example is of

* Logic (Bosanquet's translation), p. 38.
VOL. ir. 14

2IO Analytic Psychology.

little avail, apart from the analytic-synthetic process of
language, which fixes attention on the common characters in
distinction from their specific embodiment. On the other
hand, the conceptual synthesis itself is relatively independent
of the image, which may either be extremely vague or wholly
absent.

The difficulty of intuitional explication is increased when
high generality and high complexity are combined. The
generality of the component characters renders it difficult or
impossible to disengage them for detached consideration from
their specific embodiments. Their complexity renders them
incapable of being conjoined in the same percept or mental
picture. A concept may contain a multiplicity of highly
general characters, ultimately traceable to a vast variety of
separate observations, experiments and comparisons. Gener-
ality by no means implies simplicity. For the zoologist the
"animal kingdom" is a general conception, embracing in a
single system a vast variety of determinations, which are also
general. It includes, besides the abstract characters which
might be formulated in a definition of the term " animal," the
universal modes of variation, through which these characters
are specified in the graduated system of genera and species.
This vast multiplicity of highly general characters cannot be
brought before consciousness in a mental picture, or even in a
series of mental pictures.

We may now return to a point discussed in an earlier part
of this work. In bk. i., chap, iv., we urged that the meanings of
words may be, and frequently are, implicitly apprehended : the
universal with which the word is associated being distinguished
and identified as a whole without being resolved into its
components. We then had in view chiefly intuitional explica-
tion ; it is perhaps needless to say that the same holds good of
verbal explication. Where the relations of concepts to each
other, and their connection in a whole, can be apprehended

Thought and Language. 2 1 1

without resolving them into their components, such analysis is
useless for the purposes of thought. It is true that the play
of association will often call up imagery where it is not
required ; but such imagery is, as we have shown, for the most
part irrelevant. It either does not explicate the concept at
all, or it does so in an utterly inadequate way. It may indeed
fulfil a useful function in thought-process ; but this function
belongs to it as a supplement of the word, not as an explication
of the meaning. It is a component part of the sign, rather
than a presentation of the object signified. If, in reading a
treatise on political economy, the word " wealth " calls up in
my mind the vague picture of a bale of goods, this picture is,
to say the least, a hopelessly inadequate explication of the
concept of wealth. But it may co-operate with the word in
fixing and detaining the mental system associated with this
word. The mental imagery that clusters round a word, and
supports it in its function, constitutes what has been called the
" inner speech-form ". We shall have to recur to this point
when we come to treat of the transference of meaning by
Analogy.

§ 7. Universe of Discourse.

Thinking by means of language consists in the formation of
an ideal whole by the mutual apperception of the conceptual
systems, with which the words are severally associated. This,
however, is only one aspect of the process. We have not
merely to consider the nature of the elements which unite to
form a conceptual whole and the nature of their union. We
have also to take into account the permanently dominant
system by which each conceptual object entering into a train
of thought is apperceived in turn, and v/hich gives to the
whole series its unity of plan and unity of interest. The
interest through which each object attracts attention must
depend on its relation to preceding parts of the series. Only

212 Analytic Psychology.

in so far as these conditions are fulfilled are those desultory-
transitions excluded, by which one object, instead of being
presented as a further development or determination of its
predecessors, simply displaces and suppresses them. Words
are instruments of thinking, because the mental groups which
they excite apperceive each other. But the mere juxtaposition
of the expressive signs is not sufficient to produce this result.
Ordinary conversation is marked by frequent transitions from
one general topic to another through associative links which
are not themselves attended to. Within each sentence, it is
true, the transitions are, in the strict sense, thought-transitions ;
this arises, as we shall see later on, from the very nature of the
sentence and of those proportional systems which are the
psychological counterpart of the objective categories of
grammar. But there is no necessary continuity in the inter-
connection of sentences. The mere play of association, taking
the place of thought-development, may break up the train of
ideas into disjointed fragments. Thought is continuous only
in so far as the evolution of the ideal train is the progressive
specification of a previously indeterminate whole. This
relatively indefinite schema, which becomes articulate in the
process of thinking, is what logicians call a universe of discourse^
and what in ordinary language is called a subject or topic.
The title of a scientific treatise, for instance, expresses the
subject, which at the outset is comparatively indeterminate,
but which receives progressive determination as sentence is
added to sentence. In relation to this general subject the
whole specific content of the treatise may be regarded as a
predicate.

§ 8. The Subject-Predicate Relation.

Possibly this use of the terms subject and predicate maj'
appear loose and popular. The subject of the grammarian or

Thought and Language. 213

logician is the unifying centre of a multiplicity of acts, states,
or relations, and the predicate is the act, state, or relation
ascribed to the subject in any sentence. This distinction is of
course accurate and important. But it ought not, I think, to
be identified with the distinction between subject and predicate.
The essential mark of the subject-predicate relation is that it
constitutes a sentence. Thus we find that grammarians
distinguish between the merely defining or determining use of
adjectives, participles, etc., and their properly predicative
function. To explain the nature of the subject-predicate
relation is at the same time to explain why discourse is broken
up into distinct sentences. Now the required explanation is
not far to seek, if we start from the popular use of the word
subject as indicating the general topic or universe of discourse.
The predicate of the subject, in this sense, is the whole
discourse through which it receives definition and specification
Predication, from this point of view, just consists in the
definition and specification of what is, at the outset, indefinite
and indeterminate. It is because this process takes place
gradually by a successive concentration of attention, that
language is divided into sentences. The predicate of a
sentence is the determination of what was previously in-
determinate. The subject is the previous qualification of the
general topic or universe of discourse to which the new
qualification is attached. The subject is that product of
previous thinking which forms the immediate basis and
starting-point of further development. The further develop-
ment is the predicate. Sentences are in the process of thinking
what steps are in the process of walking. The foot on which
the weight of the body rests corresponds to the subject. The
foot which is moved forward in order to occupy new ground
corresponds to the predicate.

According to this view, the subject-predicate relation is
altogether distinct in kind from those relations with which it

214 Analytic Psychology.

is commonly identified by grammarians. It has nothing to do
with the relation of agent to action or with similar categories.
It does not express any form of relation inherent in the object
of thought ; it springs entirely out of the time conditions 0£
mental process in the individual mind. It is a purely
psychological category and not a logical category. It only
exists because of the narrowness of consciousness. All
answers to questions are, as such, predicates, and all predicates
may be regarded as answers to possible questions. If the
statement " I am hungry " be a reply to the question, " Who is
hungry? " then " I " is the predicate. If it be an answer to the
question, " Is there anything amiss with you ? " then " hungry "
is the predicate. If the question is, " Are you really hungry ? "
then " am " is the predicate. Every fresh step in a train of
thought may be regarded as an answer to a question. The
subject is, so to speak, the formulation of the question ; the
predicate is the answer.

The ultimate subject is always the universe of discourse. In
some cases this ultimate subject is also the proximate subject
of a sentence. When this happens, it may not be represented
by an expressive sign and it may even be incapable of being
adequately expressed. Under this head come impersonal
sentences such as " It rains," " It grows late," etc., and ex-
clamations such as " Fire ! " " Murder ! "

§ 9. Interconnection of Sentences.

Continuous discourse is composed of sentences. Each of
these adds a further qualification to the general topic which
forms the universe of discourse. This further qualification is
the predicate of the sentence. But the successive predicates
are not simply juxtaposed. They unite in that ideal whole
which is the product of conceptual thinking — a whole formed
by the mutual apperception of the concepts on which attention

Thought and Language. 2 1 5

is successively concentrated. Each predicate-concept must
therefore be apperceived by the partially formed whole which
is the product of the previous synthesis of concepts. If we
take any given point in the progress of a continuous discourse,
all determinations of the general topic which have emerged up
to that point form an integral part of the subject, to which all
subsequent determinations are attached as predicates. Con-
sider the following series of sentences : " I took the train to
London ; I arrived at 12 P.M. ; I went to an hotel ; I found
that all the rooms were taken ". The " I " which is the subject
of the last sentence is qualified by all those which precede it.
The full sentence is : " I, having taken the train to London,
and having arrived at 1 2 P.M., on going to an hotel found that
all the rooms were taken ". This example may be regarded
as typical of the mode in which sentences are interconnected,
in the continuous development of conceptual thought.^ The
subject of each sentence is not fully expressed within the
sentence itself; it is always qualified and defined by what
precedes. It must be noted that this interdependence of
sentences, through which those that precede specify and define
the subject of those that follow, is quite distinct from that
interdependence which is expressed by such conjunctions as
if, becaicse, t/terefore, then, when, etc. These connecting
particles express relations inherent in the object thought about.
They therefore belong to a class of categories altogether
distinct from the subject-predicate relation, which is purely
subjective or psychological.

§ 10. Occasional Meaning of Expressive Signs.

Concepts are apperceptive systems. They are, therefore,
excited by co-operation and repressed by competition. These
conditions limit the operation of the expressive sign on each

* Paul's Principl $ of the History of Language (trans.), pp. 144 ff.

2i6 Analytic Psychology.

occasion of its employment. The objects indirectly attended
to in a train of conceptual thought are, by mutual apperception,
interwoven into the texture of the thought-product. Each
expressive sign has power to objectify its associate system only
in so far as this system is capable of being incorporated in
the conceptual whole which is in process of construction.
Hence, the signification of words varies according to the
context in which they appear. " When the idea * man ' is
present, it is present in some proposition or question, as :
' Man is the paragon of animals ; ' ' In man there is nothing
great but mind,' and so on. It is quite clear that in under-
standing or mentally verifying such statements, very different
constituents out of the whole complex ' man ' are prominent
in each . . . What is relevant is alone prominent." ^ In
sentences like " I never laid a hand upon him " ; " John never
drew bridle," the hand referred to is not a hand in general,
but my hand, the bridle referred to is not a bridle in general,
but that which was held by John. Compare such instances as
" a good point," " a point of honour," " the bar of an hotel,"
"the bar of justice," "the tongue of a woman," "the tongue of
a balance".^ Paul uses the terms occasional and usual
signification to mark the distinction between the meaning of
a word each time that it is employed and that which by usage
attaches to it considered in itself This nomenclature is
convenient, and I shall make use of it. It must be noted,
however, that the usual signification is, in a certain sense, a
fiction. It is, perhaps, not necessary that there should be an
identical element of meaning pervading all the applications of
a word. Moreover, this common element, so far as it does
exist, cannot be called a ?neaning of the word in the same
sense as the occasional signification. When it is disengaged
by scientific definition from the various specific applications in

^ Dr. J. Ward, art. " Psychology," Encyc. Brit, xx., 76.
* Paul's Principles of the History of Language, pp. 73 ff.

Thought and Language. 217

which it is implicitly included, it ceases ipso facto to be a
general meaning, and becomes one occasional meaning among
others. The usual ox general signification is not in itself one
of the significations borne by a word. It is a condition which
circumscribes within more or less vague and shifting limits the
divergence of occasional meanings.

The signification of words varies not only with the context,
but also with the circumstances under which they are employed.
Signs, such as the personal, possessive, and demonstrative
pronouns, demonstrative adverbs, etc., have for their general
meaning only an extremely abstract form of localisation in
respect of place or time. They, therefore, require, on each
occasion of their employment, the aid of individualising
conditions to give them definiteness. These conditions are
supplied by the context, when the demonstrative refers to some
other word in the same discourse. They are also often
supplied by the general circumstances which determine the
universe of discourse. Such demonstratives as that, this, there^
thence, primarily refer to the content of present perception.
That tree means, ceteris paribus, the most prominent tree in
sight. Here means the place in which the speaker is ; now, the
time at which he is speaking, and so forth. The defining
power of the universe of discourse is also constantly seen in
the case of other words besides demonstratives, " Countrymen
talk of going to town without further specification, meaning
thereby the town nearest to where they happen to live."
" Suppose that two friends are out walking together, and that
they meet a lady previously unknown to either about whom
they exchange remarks. They take the same walk on another
occasion, and one asks : ' Shall we meet the lady again ? ' In
this case the reference is clear and unmistakable." ^

All specification of meaning by context or circumstances is

' Paul, loc. cit.

2i8 Analytic Psychology,

due to the competition and co-operation of apperceptive
systems. The dominant system which corresponds to the
universe of discourse suppresses the activity of those com-
ponents of the meaning of a word which it is unable to
apperceive ; and in like manner the meanings of different
words limit each other by mutual apperception. In this
process not only does what precedes limit and determine what
follows, but what follows also limits and determines what
precedes.

§ II. Modification of Meaning by Analogy.

The modification of the meaning of a word by its context is
due to its incorporation in a conceptual whole. In so far as
the form of this whole is prescribed by a proportional system
corresponding to the universe of discourse, all modification of
meaning by context is due to relative suggestion through
identity of relations. It results from the controlling influence
of a proportional system on the train of ideas as determined
by association. This is what philologists call extension of
meaning by analogy. Its most conspicuous illustration is to be
found in cases where the general signification is transferred to
a class of objects markedly diverse in nature from those to
which the word has been previously applied. The author of
the proverb " Speech is silvern, but silence is golden," extended
the use of words by analogy, because speech and silence have
nothing in common with silver and gold except a similar
relation in respect of value. There is also a converse process
by which analogy of meaning gives rise by relative suggestion
to the formation of a new word. Some years ago there was
an exhibition in London called the " Colonies " ; afterwards
there were other exhibitions which were felt to be in many
respects analogous. The analogy, however, lay not in what was
exhibited, but in the circumstances of exhibition. Hence, by

Thought and Language. 219

relative suggestion, arose new and unheard-of words, such as
" Healtheries ".

When the meaning of a word is extended by analogy, it
often happens that the extension is of a metaphorical kind.
The primary relation is between objects which can be easily
pictured or otherwise imaged, and it is transferred to objects
which are not presentable in this way. When this happens,
the original images are apt to survive in connection with the
new meaning, although they form no part of it. They then
in co-operation with the word assume the psychical function
of aids to the fixation of attention, and constitute the most
important class of inner speech-forms. When one person says
to another " I catch your meaning," he uses a word which in
the first instance is applied to actual catching with the hand.
If a picture of this act accompanies the utterance of the words,
it reinforces the power of the word to fix attention much as an
imitative gesture might do.

§ 12. The Objective Categories of Grammar.

The subject-predicate relation is not an objective, but a
subjective, category. It is a form of the process of thinking,
not of the thought-product. Similarly, the distinction between
interrogative, imperative, and assertory sentences is mainly
subjective. But most grammatical categories are objective.
They are general modes of connection constitutive of the
objective unity apprehended by those trains of thought which
depend on expressive signs. These general modes ot
connection are the form, as distinguished from the matter, ot
conceptual thought. The material constituents of the objects
of conceptual thinking consist in special things, activities,
qualities, etc., as expressed by specific verbs and sub-
stantives. The formal constituents consist in such relations
as that of agent and action, object and activity, thing and

220 Analytic Psychology.

quality. In ordinary discourse, form is always the form of a
special matter, and as such it is itself specialised. The
general meaning which is implicit in all the varying applica-
tions of the formal constituents of language becomes explicit
only for the scientific grammarian. This general meaning is,
like that of demonstrative words, highly abstract, and it is for
that reason difficult to disengage it in its purity from its
manifold specifications.

To the scheme of relations represented by the formal elements
of language there corresponds an extremely comprehensive
and powerful apperceptive system of the kind which I have
c^iWtd pyoportio7jal. Thus each material element tends to call
up by relative suggestion others related to it according
to the general plan of grammatical structure. In such
languages as English, the thing and its property or state, the
agent and action and object, together with their adjectival and
adverbial qualifications, are definitely discriminated by appro-
priate modes of expression, such as position and infllection.
The apperceptive systems corresponding to these groups of
relations maj?- be called syntactic systems. In general, the
more highly developed a language is, the more adequate, com-
prehensive, and unambiguous are the signs of syntactic rela-
tion, and the more powerful and persistently operative are the
syntactic systems. It is for the philologist to trace the manifold
modes and degrees in which grammatical form is expressed and
therefore conceived in different languages. We have merely to
consider in broad outline the general nature of such variations.
It has been proposed to divide all languages into two classes —
the formal and the formless. This division as applied to
conventional languages perhaps involves the error of confusing
difference in degree with difference in kind. But the distinction
appears to be justified if we regard it as constituting a line of
demarcation between the language of natural signs and the
language of conventional signs. Gesture-language may be

Thought and Language. 221

correctly described as formless. In the following sections I
shall consider it at some length, because of the insight which
it affords into the fundamental nature of expressive signs.

§ 13. Gesture-Language.

Gesture-language is, like conventional language, an instru-
ment of conceptual thinking. The natural signs which
compose it are either demonstrative or imitative. The
demonstrative consist in some way of drawing attention to an
object actually present, or to be found in a certain direction.
It is obvious that such indications are not expressive signs,
unless they form part of a context. This context is supplied
by imitative gestures. The imitation consists mainly in
tracing the outline of objects in the air or in copying
characteristic features of an action. By copying the act of
using a thing or the process of producing it, it is possible to
express the thing itself, if context and circumstances exclude
ambiguity. Under like conditions, a quality of an absent
object may be represented by pointing to a similar object
possessing a similar quality. Onomatopoeia in all its forms
must be regarded as a natural sign. It is, if I may be allowed
the expression, a phonetic gesture. Reduplication, in its
primitive use, ought perhaps to be brought under the same
head.

Such pantomime is sufficiently within the power and under
the control of the individual subject. Gestures of this kind
are moreover intrinsically adapted to serve as expressive signs,
because they suggest only certain salient features characterising
a class of objects or actions. They are indeed in their own
nature concrete and particular. But their concreteness and
particularity are of a kind determined by the conditions of
their origin, inasmuch as they are bodily movements made by
a particular person at a particular time. If these movements

122 Analytic Psychology.

themselves were of sufficient interest to attract attention on
their own account, they could not fulfil their function as
expressive signs. They constitute a language, because, in the
context and in the circumstances in which they are used, they
derive their interest from their general resemblance in certain
respects to things and actions, which are in other and perhaps
more essential respects disparate from them and disconnected
with them. They are thus by their very nature adapted to
become expressive signs, exciting the apperceptive systems
corresponding to the things and actions which they imitate
and so fixing attention on these things and actions.

A brief account of the mode in which this language is
taught to deaf-mutes will be the best means of explaining its
nature. I take the following details from Schmalz.^ The
more intelligent deaf-mutes form natural signs spontaneously,
if they are not altogether neglected by their fellow-men. At
first, however, their gestures are mainly demonstrative. " In
order to indicate their wishes and needs, they point to the
objects in which they are interested if these are present."
If the objects are not in sight they fetch them or conduct
others to them. The deaf-mute points to a dish or a jug and
so indicates his desire for what the dish or jug contains. "If
he wants bread he brings the whole loaf, together with a
knife, and he hands both to the person who is to cut a slice
for him." Up to this point the gestures of the deaf-mute
resemble those of dogs and other intelligent animals. They
are not expressive signs in the strict sense. They are like
any other, means for attaining practical ends, and it must be
remembered that the relation of means to end is quite
disparate from that of the expressive sign to its signification.
But cases occur in which devices of the kind described are
inadequate. "The deaf-mute, it may be, wants a drink of

* Vehev die Taubstitntnen, pp. 267. seq

Thought and Language. 223

water ; he sees neither water nor drinking-glass in the room,
so that he cannot point to the one nor fetch the other. He
takes some one by the hand in order to lead him to the place
where the water is. The person to whom this appeal is
made refuses to move. The deaf-mute is perplexed and
embarrassed. Finally he adopts the device of pointing to his
mouth," This is something more than a practical expedient.
It is an expressive sign — at least in the germ — such as is not,
so far as I know, used by even the most intelligent animals.
But the sign is ambiguous. The person addressed may,
through a real or pretended misunderstanding, give the deaf-
mute something to eat instead of something to drink. He
is thus driven to define his meaning by a combination of
gestures — a context of natural signs. He directs his hand
towards his mouth again ; but now he curves it as if it held a
glass, at the same time imitating the act of drinking. " At
last he makes himself understood, and with the joy of it a ray
of light penetrates his intellectual and moral being. This
movement, as it were, transforms him into a human being,
whereas his previous pointing had been merely animal
language. From this time forward he learns to describe
absent objects, and he forms for himself a language of natural
signs at once betokening and producing a distinctive human
power of thought."

" If the deaf-mute does not in good time invent a gesture-
language for himself, he must be trained to do so. ... A
number of simple objects are laid before him together with
copies of them. He is then taught to recognise the copies as
such, his attention being alternately directed to the originals
and to the imitations. A copy of another object is then
brought before his notice, and he is called upon by an interrog-
ative gesture to seek the original. As a rule, he does so.
After this exercise has been continued for some time, the
articles imitated are removed and only the copies are retained.

224 Analytic Psychology.

The teacher fixes his gaze on one of these with a look of
interrogation. The deaf-mute seeks for the corresponding
object and he is somewhat perplexed because he cannot find
it. If he does not himself resort to the expedient of imitating
the object by a gesture, the teacher supplies him with an
appropriate sign. In this way he is gradually brought to
understand how an absent object may be represented by a
mimetic movement."

§ 14. Gesture-Language tends to become
Conventional.

The meaning of natural signs, like that of conventional
signs, varies according to context and universe of discourse ;
and such occasional modifications tend to produce lasting
changes of general signification. The restrictions and ex-
tensions of meaning thus acquired do not depend on the
primary connection between the mimetic sign and what it
signifies. They constitute a conventional element in the
language of natural signs.

Natural signs also tend to become conventional in another
way. There is a strong disposition to abbreviate familiar
gestures. The mere hint of a movement, so to speak, comes
to be substituted for the movement itself, so that a bystander
who has not made a special study of gesture-language is
totally unable to divine the meaning of the signs used. In
this way the natural pantomime of deaf-mutes tends to become
in some degree arbitrary. It would seem however that
the deaf-mute rarely loses sight altogether of the natural
connection between sign and signification. He is able, if
required, to act out in detail his abbreviated gestures. Until
he is taught a conventional language, he cannot entirely
dissociate the notion of a sign from the imitation of some
feature or adjunct of the thing signified. It must be under-

Thought and Language. 225

stood that what follows in § 15 on the limitations of gesture-
language is intended to apply to it only in so far as it is truly
mimetic, and not to the conventional elements which become
intermixed with the imitative gestures.

§ 15. Limitations of Gesture-Language.

The language of gestures is, as we have seen, a true

instrument of conceptual thinking. It fixates mental systems,

which by mutual apperception unite to form a conceptual

whole. I cannot, therefore, agree with the view of Mr. Romanes^

that it is the natural expression of the " logic of recepts " as

opposed to the logic of concepts. On the other hand, it must

be admitted that the conceptual thinking of which natural

signs are the medium is only of a rudimentary character.

Mimetic gestures can represent things and processes only by

imitating the broad features of their sensible appearance and

especially of their appearance to the eye. Hence they are, in

comparison with conventional signs, very deficient both in

generality and in power of specification. The more closely

objects resemble each other, the more difficult it is to express

their differentiating characteristics by imitative movements.

In order to distinguish closely allied species of the same

genus, it is often necessary to have recourse to a cumbrous

accumulation of gestures, where in conventional language a

single brief and simple sign would more efficiently fulfil the

same function. Thus the sign for a stocking must usually

include an imitation of the act of knitting, as the mere

representation of its shape and the act of drawing it on to

the foot would be ambiguous. It might stand for a boot

This want of specifying power, which is inherent in the

nature of gesture-language, of itself involves a corresponding

deficiency in power of generalisation. The concept of a genus

is more fully developed in proportion as its special sub-
VOL. II. 15

226 Analytic Psychology

concepts are more definitely distinguished from it and from
each other. Hence the difficulty of specifying by means of
mimetic signs is at the same time a hindrance to the process
of generalisation. A still more important limitation is that
imitative gestures can only express that kind of generality
which consists in or is conjoined with the resemblance of
objects in their appearance to the senses. Hence concepts of
a high degree of abstractness cannot be represented at all by
mimetic signs or can only be so represented in an indistinct,
cumbrous, and inadequate way. " The more general determina-
tions of magnitude, such as broad, narrow ; long, short ; thick,
thin ; high, low ; cannot be accurately expressed ; the most
that can be done is to teach the deaf-mute signs, which are
suitable in the largest proportion of cases." ^ It is obvious
that such concepts as causality, reciprocity, teleology, develop-
ment, state, condition, etc., can hardly be expressed by
imitative gestures. Broadly speaking, natural signs are cap-
able of fixing attention on universals comprehending particular
objects as their subordinate elements ; but they can only to a
very limited extent fix attention on universals having as their
subordinate elements other universals. The thinking which
depends on gesture-language may generate concepts ; but it
can scarcely generate a conceptual system embracing a
multiplicity of conceptual components, which are co-ordinated
with each other and subordinated to each other according to
a scheme of classification. It follows that trains of thought
which depend purely on natural signs are not, as a rule,
sustained and continuous. The apperceptive systems of which
they are the serial expansion are not sufficiently complex and
comprehensive to make possible persistent and strenuous in-
tellectual effort. This is one reason why deaf-mutes who have
not been made familiar with conventional language display a

^ Schmalz, op. cit., p. 275.

Thought and Language. 227

marked incapacity for disciplined thinking. With them the
flow of ideas is predominantly determined by casual associa-
tions and by momentary surroundings. Hence they display
a peculiar kind of restlessness ; not having resources within
themselves, they are perpetually seeking the excitement of new
impressions from without.

§ 16. Formlessness of Gesture-Language.

The impossibility of giving any adequate expression to
abstract relation by means of mimetic gestures includes the
impossibility of giving any adequate expression to the
objective categories of grammar. The language of natural
signs is essentially formless. " The gesture-language has no
grammar properly so called. . . . The same sign stands
for ' walk,' ' walks,' ' walking,' ' walked,' ' walker ', Adjectives
and verbs are not easily distinguished by the deaf and
dumb. . . , Indeed our elaborate system of parts ot
speech is but little applicable to the gesture-language." 1 The
same gesture may stand at once for act, agent, object and
instrument. Thus a movement imitative of digging may
equally well signify the digger, the spade, the hole dug, or the
act itself. It is associated with the whole complex including
the act, and all the objects obviously implicated in the act.
It is restricted in its signification only by context and by the
universe of discourse. To remove such ambiguity, conventional
elements are sometimes introduced into gesture-language.
Thus a deaf-mute may be taught to describe a circle with
both hands in the air in order to show that he refers to a thing,
and to move one hand to and fro in order to show that he is
thinking about a quality. This is, of course, a purely
conventional arrangement.

The language of natural signs is fully adequate to the

^Tylor's Early History of Mankind^ p. 24.

2 28 Analytic Psychology.

expression of varying subjective attitudes, as distinguished
from the objective categories of grammar. It is easy to
distinguish interrogation, command, and assertion, by means of
appropriate gestures. The order in which gestures are made
to follow one another seems mainly to depend on the
comparative interest felt by the speaker in the objects referred
to. What is most important comes first. In this respect
gesture-language is strongly contrasted with those conventional
languages, which, like Chinese, use the order of words almost
exclusively as a means of expressing objective distinctions.

§ 17. The Varieties of Conventional Language.

Conventional signs, being free from the necessary limita-
tions of natural signs, are capable of expressing adequately
and accurately the most specific and the most abstract
concepts. Actual languages, however, realise this ideal in
varying degrees. The significant speech of children belongs
at the outset to the same stage of intellectual development as
the language of gestures. Baba does not signify to the child
what the verb to sleep signifies to us. It expresses the whole
unanalysed complex of things, persons, and actions connected
with sleeping, including the nurse, the cradle, the cushion and
so forth. Steinthal tells us that a child of his spontaneously
invented the word 'dlil, when he saw a street-lamp kindled.
Another time he caught sight of the man coming with his
ladder to dress the lamp. The child recognised him in the
distance and again cried 'dlil. Soon afterwards he learned to
say tick and even licht. Six weeks after the incident narrated,
he exclaimed lich on seeing in daylight the apparatus for
dressing the lamps.^ The first sentences formed by children
are, as might be expected, without grammatical form.
Steinthal gives some very good examples from his own

1 Psychologie unci Sprachwissenschaftf p. 402,

Thought and Language. 229

observations. Among these are Papa hat = Papa has a hat
on, and Mama baba = / will sleep with Mama}

Between such mere juxtaposition of words, which are not
yet differentiated into " parts of speech," and the grammatical
structure ot' a highly developed language, there are manifold
intermediate gradations. Power to express grammatical form
depends on power to express abstract relations in general.
But in this respect the languages of some savage tribes
scarcely attain to the level of a well-developed gesture-
language. "The Tasmanians, when they wanted to denote
what we mean by tall and round, had to say long legs and like
a ball or the -tnoon or some other round object, eking out their
scanty vocabulary by the help of gesture. So, too, the New
Caledonians cannot be brought to understand such ideas as
those conveyed by yesterday and to-morrow." ^ On the other
hand, such languages are distinctly superior to gesture-
language in power of specification, although they hardly
attain to the same degree of generalisation. " The Mohicans
have words for cutting various objects, but none to convey
cutting simply ; and the Society Islanders can talk of a dog's
tail, a sheep's tail, or a man's tail, but not of tail itself, . . .
According to Milligan the aborigines of Tasmania had ' no
words representing abstract ideas ; for each variety of gum-tree
and wattle-tree, etc., etc., they had a name, but they had no
equivalent for the expression, a tree; neither could they
express abstract qualities, such as hard, soft, warm, cold,
short, round '."^ It thus appears that even the rudest con-
ventional languages possess a power of discrimination which
cannot be attained by natural signs. It must be noticed,
however, that this multiplication of distinctions does not
involve any organisation of concepts in a system. There is,

^ Psychologic und Sprachwissenschaft, p. 401.
- Sayce, Science of Language, vol. i., p. loi.
» Op. cit., vol. ii., pp. 5-6.

230 Analytic Psychology.

properly speaking, no conception of the species, as such, where
there is no conception of the genus, as such.

According to philologists, the formal constituents of language
grow out of material constituents. The highly general
relations expressed in the grammatical structure of a developed
language have become gradually disengaged from the more
specific relations which were the first to be distinctly appre-
hended by the human intellect. Hence we find that in respect
of grammatical form the speech of savage, when compared
with that of civilised, races, approaches the rudeness and
clumsiness of gesture-language. In Dakota " the modal
particles ' ba,' ' bo,' ' ka,' ' na,' ' pa,' ' ya,' and * yu,' are prefixed
to verbal roots, adjectives, and some neuter verbs, making of
them active transitive verbs, and usually indicating the mode
and instrument of the action, {a) The syllable * ba "■ prefixed
shows that the action is done by cutting or sawing, and that a
knife or saw is the instrument. . . . (^) The prefix ' bo '
signifies that the action is done by shooting with a gun or
arrow, hy punching w'VCcv a stick, or by any instrument thrown
endwise. . . . [c) The prefix * ka ' denotes that the action
is done by striking, as with an axe or club, or by shaving.
. . . (tf) The prefix * na ' generally signifies that the action
is done with the foot or by pressure. . . . {e) The prefix
* pa ' shows that the action is done by pushing or rubbing with
the hand. (/) The prefix *ya' signifies that the action
is performed with the mouth. . . . Baksa means to cut in
two with a knife, as a stick ; boksa, to shoot off; kaksa, to cut
off with an axe ; naksa, to break off with the foot ; paksa, to
break off with the hand ; yaksa, to bite off ; . . . ceya, to
cry ; T\2iCQy2i, to make cry by kicking ; . . . kicdi, bad ; yasica,
to speak evil of." ^ In the same language there are two classes

* Contributions to North American Ethnology (published under the
direction of the Smithsonian Institution, Washington, 1893), vol. ix.,
pp. 19-20.

Thought and Layiguage. 231

of possessive pronouns ; the one expresses exclusively natural
or inalienable possession, as minagi, my soul, mitezi, my
stomach, ' mi ' being the possessive ; the other expresses pro-
perty in things which can be transferred, such as axes, horses,
etc.^ Similar illustrations might be multiplied without end.

The occurrence of distinctions of this kind in savage
languages is sometimes regarded as a mark of their superior
accuracy and subtlety, as compared with civilised tongues.
Thus the missionary Williams speaks of the " precision and
perfection " of certain Polynesian dialects, and refers especially
to " nice distinctions in the pronouns ". " An instance is
found in what we may term the inclusive and exclusive
pronouns : for example, in English, we say, ' It is time for us
to go ' ; and the expression may or may not include the person
addressed. Now, in the Polynesian dialects there are two
pronouns which mark this difference, m.atou and tatou. If the
person spoken to is one of the party going, the tatou would be
used ; if not, the matou. A short time since, I was dining at
Bath, when the lady of the house desired the servant to bring
a plate, and, politely addressing me, said, ' Put your bones
upon the plate, sir '. Now, common as this expression is, it
is certainly rather ambiguous. In the language of the
Polynesians, however, there would be no such ambiguity, for
they have two pronouns to express the difference, tooe and
taoe ; the former of which would be used, if my own bones
were meant ; and the latter, if those of the pheasant of which
I had been partaking." 2 It certainly appears odd that a
lower grade of intellectual development should be marked by
superior nicety and precision of discriminative thought. The
truth is that these distinctions, so plentiful in savage languages,
are due rather to an incapacity for clearly apprehending

* Contributions to North American Ethnology (published under the direc-
tion of the Smithsonian Institution, Washington, 1893), vol. ix., p. 15.
' Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands, p. 452.

232 Analytic Psychology.

identity in difference, than to a superior power of apprehend-
ing difference in identity. We might, by similar reasoning,
claim a superiority for the Japanese alphabet over the Eng-
lish, because it contains a greater number of distinct signs for
distinct sounds. This is so, because the signs stand for
syllabic sounds, and not for literal sounds. A much smaller
number of signs would suffice if it were based on the analysis
of the syllable into its components. Similarly, the savage mind
has not pushed its analysis far enough to be able to reconstruct
certain complex concepts out of simpler. Hence it simply takes
the complex concept in its unanalysed totality and marks it by
a separate sound. The supposed superiority of savage speech
belongs in an even higher degree to gesture-language.

The fundamental differences between various languages,
considered as embodiments of thought and instruments of
thinking, are best shown by their differences in grammatical
structure. In this respect the polysynthetic languages of
North America closely resemble a well-developed language of
natural signs. " Polysynthesism or incapsulation may be
defined as the fusion of the several parts of a sentence into a
single word, the single words composing it being reduced to
their simplest elements. It is, in fact, the undeveloped
sentence of primitive speech, out of which the various forms of
grammar and the manifold words of the lexicon were ultimately
to arise." ^ "In Cheroki, for instance, nad-hol-i-nin means
' bring us the boat,' from naten, ' to bring,' amokhol, ' boat,' and
nin, ' us '."2 In some languages, instead of the verb we find a noun
denoting an action, and the connection of the action with the
agent from which it originates or the object in which it ter-
minates is expressed by simple juxtaposition, by the possessive
pronoun, or by some other adnominal form. Thus, in sentences
quoted by H. Winkler from Pokenchi : Thou thy seeing^ Thou

* Sayce, Introduction to the Science 0/ Language, vol. ii., p. 216.
Ubid., p. 218.

Thought and Language, 233

seest ; His scratching his head— He scratches his head; I his
biting= He bites 7ne. In Dayak, according to Steinthal, such
sentences as the following are typical. Boat this boat of his
choice = This is the boat he has choseji ; Witness two these
which thy desire = Which of these two witnesses desirest thou ?

It is possible even for prepositions and pronouns to be
expressed adnominally. Thus in Pokenchi : Mouth my face =
In front of 7ny face = In front oftne; Mouth my head — On
me ; Mouth my back = Behind me ; On-our-one-side-that-(of)
us = We all.

Concord is a remarkable grammatical form characteristic of
inflectional languages. It expresses the mutual determination
of meaning which is involved in the apperception of the
concept of an action by the concept of the agent, or of the
concept of a quality by the concept of the thing which it
qualifies. Number and gender are important grammatical
forms mainly because they furnish a means of expressing this
relation by means of concord. The agreement in gender and
number of the adjective with its substantive, the agreement in
number and person of the verb with its nominative is an
expression of the general form of connection which is involved
in the synthesis of the concepts of action and agent or of thing
and property. The nature of this relation has been already
discussed in § 8. The importance of grammatical form
consists in the pervasive and persistent control which it
exercises on the course of thought. Conceptual thinking is
everywhere moulded by the analogous systems which corre-
spond to the schema of relations expressed by the general
morphological structure of a language. A language which is
penetrated through and through by adnominal form, so that it
has no true verb and no true distinction of agent and object,
embodies a mode of thinking in some measure different from
that which is mediated by Greek or English.^

^C/. Sayce, op. cit., vol. i., pp. 129, 378; and the Introduction to
Steinthal's Charakteristik der hauptsdchlichsten Typen des Sprachbaues.

CHAPTER XL
BELIEF AND IMAGINATION.

§ I. Introductory.

In an early chapter of this work we have accepted Brentano's
view of belief or judgment as an attitude of consciousness
towards its object, fundamentally distinct from simple appre-
hension. We have now to investigate the psychological
conditions which determine this mental attitude. There are
two points of view from which this problem can be approached.
We may, like Bain, consider belief as a condition of activity ;
or we may regard it as dependent on limitation or restriction
of activity. Both these modes of procedure yield an indis-
pensable part of the true explanation. In order to attain full
insight we must unite them.

§ 2. Belief as a Condition of Activity.

According to Dr. Bain " the relation of belief to activity is
expressed by saying that what we believe we act upon ". Belief
constitutes the psychological connection between means and
end. " Wherever any creature is found performing an action,
indifferent in itself, with a view to some end, and adhering ta
that action with the same energy that would be manifested
under the actual fruition of the end, we say that the animal
possesses confidence, or belief, in the sequence of two different
things, or in a certain arrangement of nature, whereby one

(234)

Belief and Imagination. 235

phenomenon succeeds to another." ^ Degrees of assurance are
measured by the degree in which the desire for the means
approximates in intensity to that for the end itself ; and by
the degree in which the satisfaction yielded by realisation of
the means approximates to the satisfaction yielded by realisa-
tion of the end. This of course holds good only so far as the
means is merely a means, and not an object of conation on its
own account. When we are fully convinced that a certain
train of events will issue in a certain desired result, we aim at
the production of this train of events with an energy of
pursuit equal to that of the primary conation. In so far as
there are relatively weak links in the chain — points of
comparative uncertainty — there is also a tendency to hesitate
or be disheartened. Whether or not the agent will be
sufficiently disheartened to be brought to a pause, or to act
in a flagging or feeble manner, depends largely on the
intensity of the original desire. Where this is very strong,
men catch eagerly at straws. But it remains true that
uncertainty or doubt is in itself a condition which obstructs
action. In the typical case of full assurance, success in the
intermediate activity which leads up to the desired end, yields
a gratification in many cases equivalent to the attainment of
the end itself " The General, believing that a certain force
would infallibly enable him to defeat the enemy, makes his
attack when he has got the force ; and when he is sure of
that force reaching him, he feels already the excitement of
victory." ^ Where in cases of perfect assurance the attainment
of the end yields a pleasure in excess of that which accompanies
the successful progress towards it, the difference is due to
incidental sources of gratification, distinct from the mere
satisfaction of the pre-existing desire.

This doctrine fits in well with our account of conation and

^ Emotions and the Will, p. 569.
^Ibid., p. 590.

236 Analytic PsycnoCogy.

cognitive synthesis in bk. ii., chap. vi. We there maintained
that desire for the end is eo ipso desire for the means. It is an
integral part of the same complex conation. To bring this
view into line with Prof. Bain's, we have only to add that the
psychological relations which connect the parts of such a
complex, are of the nature of beliefs. In other words, the
cognitive synthesis involved is not a play of simple appre-
hension, but a connected series of judgments.

The obvious objection to Dr. Bain's thesis is that we have
many beliefs apparently quite disconnected from action.
Bain himself instances such beliefs as that the sun is radiating
away his heat, or that in the desert of Sahara there are
burning days and chilling nights, or that Britain was invaded
by the Romans. His own rejoinder is twofold, (i) He urges
that the evidence in such cases is similar to that which we
are accustomed to act upon. "//" we went to Africa, we
would do certain things in consequence of the information." ^
It is scarcely possible to imagine an instance in which an
illustrative hypothesis of this sort would be inapplicable.
(2) He points out that where no special practical aim is
immediately present to the mind, there may be a general aim.
We gradually learn that knowledge is power ; and the love of
power assumes the form of the love of knowledge. The
reference to a possible future action takes the place of
reference to actual present action.

These arguments of Dr. Bain look like special pleading.
The second is good as far as it goes, but it is far from covering
the whole ground. It remains true that our mental attitude in
believing is sometimes purely theoretical, and often pre-
dominantly so. Dr. Bain is thus thrown back upon his first
position, that hypothetical reference to practical activity is
always possible. But this is, strictly speaking, irrelevant :

^Emotions and the Willi p. 372)

Belief and Imagination, 237

where we believe without actual reference to practice, the
mental attitude of believing must be actually distinct and
separate from the practical attitude. The whole difficulty, in
my opinion, arises from the arbitrary restriction which
Dr. Bain places upon the use of the term activity. He
considers only trains of muscular movements producing a
corresponding train of effects in the material environment.
But even where such trains exist, the mental action with which
belief is connected does not consist in these overt movements,
but in the prior process of framing a plan. But there is no
essential difference between this inward process, and that by
which v/e work out a theoretical result without reference to
external action, m both cases there is an end in view which
is reached through a series of intermediate steps. There is
therefore no reason why, in defining the conditions of belief,
we should take into account only practical activity to the
exclusion of theoretical. It is needless to say that the
theoretical series must be through and through constituted by
beliefs ; and that our confidence in the result depends on our
confidence in the antecedent steps.^ This may seem ta
involve a petitio prmcipii. The end aimed at in theoretical
activity is the establishment of a belief; hence in defining
belief in reference to such activity, we appear to be defining it
in terms which presuppose it. Perhaps it wouid be sufficient
to point out in reply that any belief may be either end-term
or starting-point of a theoretical train. The whole body of
beliefs forms a system of interdependent parts ; it is the
coherence of the system as a whole which constitutes the
possibility of its component elements. If this answer be
thought insufficient, we may fall back upon Dr. Bain's

1 For instance, if these be hypothetical the result will be hypothetical.
Where a hypothesis is verified by deducing consequences from it there
is a regressive process from the verified consequences to the initial
assumption.

238 Analytic Psychology.

position : the system of theoretical belief is in organic union
with the beliefs which immediately determine practice. How-
ever unpractical our attitude may be in accepting a theoretical
proposition, our acceptance means that we can make this
proposition a starting-point or a link in processes of reasoning
which ultimately lead up to beliefs having a direct bearing on
conduct.

In a note to his Mental and Moral Science y Dr. Bain has
given up his original theory of the nature of belief. He there
says : " I consider the correct view to be, that belief is a
primitive disposition to follow out any sequence that has once
been experienced, and to expect the result. It is a fact or
incident of our Intellectual nature, although dependent as to its
energy upon our Active or Emotional tendencies." ^ In one
respect, we approve of Dr. Bain's change of view. Belief
cannot be regarded as a mode of conation. It is a unique
mode in which consciousness refers to its object, entirely
distinct from desire, or any kind of appetition. None the less,
Dr. Bain's original account of the matter may be, and in our
opinion is, a correct analysis of the conditions under which
belief arises. On the other hand, the doctrine which he
substitutes for it is quite unsatisfactory. It is certainly true
that the mind is disposed " to follow out any sequence that has
been once experienced," if and so far as it thereby satisfies an
active tendency. But the picture which Dr. Bain presents to
our mind, of a purely passive conjunction of impressions of
itself creating such a disposition, independently of the ap-
petitive side of our nature, is a psychological fiction. His ex-
amples presuppose a theoretical interest, which has no existence
in the rudimentary stages of mental life. As we have seen in
the chapter on Conation and Cognitive Synthesis, the growth of
our intellectual nature consists in the growing definiteness and

* Appendix, p. 100.

Belief and Imagination. 239

determinateness of our "active" nature. Dr. Bain was probably
impelled to shift his ground by a sense of his failure to do
justice to the passive aspect of belief. This passive aspect
exists ; but so far from being opposed to the active aspect, it
is inseparably correlated with it The two are co-extensive
and interdependent.

§ 3. Belief as Limitation of Activity.

Wherever belief or judgment exists, it involves the control
of our activity as thinking beings by conditions which are fixed
for us and not by us. In so far as we are left free to think
otherwise than we do think, belief is absent ; in so far as it is
present, the range of subjective selection is confined within
definite limits. So far from being opposed to the doctrine of
the preceding section, this view is an immediate consequence
of it. Our inability to attain ends otherwise than through
certain means, constitutes a restriction of mental activity
within definite channels. If wishing were identical with
having, our freedom would be absolute, and there would be no
such thing as belief. The steps of a process issuing in a
given result are fixed independently of us. In devising means
to an end, therefore, we are not free to make what mental
combinations we will. Our thinking, to be eiTective, cannot be
free. We can no more attain our ends without submitting to
control independent of our wish or will, than we can walk
independently of the resistance of the ground on which we
tread.

The limitation of subjective activity may take two distinct
forms. We may find ourselves forced to think in a given
manner, in spite of an attempt to think otherwise. In this
case the limitation is an actual opposition or obstruction.
This happens whenever the mind entertains the possibility ot
an alternative which it is ultimately driven to reject. On the

240 Analytic Psychology.

other hand there may be no attempt to think otherwise. The
limitation is then contrasted, not with an endeavour to over-
come it, but with the freedom of subjective selection in other
respects. When the sun is beating on the head of a man at
noonday, he does not raise the question whether it is shining
or not. No alternative presents itself to his mind. The fact
is simply given and accepted. In view of the fact he may
behave himself in different ways, and so exercise his subjective
freedom. He may remain where he is, or seek a shelter, or
put up an umbrella. But this subjective selection serves only
to bring out by contrast the objective coercion to which his
thought is subject in the judgment that the sun is shining
hotly.

Where limitation takes the form of opposition, it may do
so in a twofold way. A preformed anticipation may be
destroyed by collision with facts. It is through such ex-
periences that the unquestioning credence of primitive belief
gradually gives place to a comparatively tentative and
sceptical habit of mind. For the most part, these preformed
anticipations are also desires ; and their defeat is the dis-
appointment of the will. As an instance we may take the
child sucking at an empty bottle. The second mode of
opposition belongs to a comparatively advanced stage of
conscious life. It involves an attempt to think otherwise for
the purpose of finding how far it is possible to do so. The
firmness of the connection A B, is tested by an attempt to
frame the thought of an incompatible connection A C. This
mental attitude is characteristic of the search for truth for its
own sake. The attempt is only made with the view of finding
if and how far it will succeed. It is only a means to an end,
and the end is attained when the attempt itself is defeated.
The whole process ij like testing a foothold in climbing, to
see whether it will bear us or not ; the more resistance the
ground makes to our pressure, the more ready we are to trust

Belief and Imagination. 241

ourselves to it. So in climbing up the series of means
towards an end, we may test the stability of the several links
by a mental attempt to dissolve their connection. In
proportion as the attempt proves abortive, the more we are
furthered in our progress. On the other hand, the more easily
we find it possible to realise in thought opposite alternatives,
we become less confident and less energetic in our pursuit of
the object along this special line.

In the case of complete doubt, it is equally easy to frame
the thought A B, and its opposing alternative A C. In the
ideal case of complete assurance, it is impossible to frame the
thought A B ; so that we are absolutely constrained to think
A C. Between complete doubt and complete assurance there
are all manners of gradations, proportioned to the difficulty of
mentally substituting A C for A B. The reader will here be
inevitably reminded of Herbert Spencer's test of truth. The
difference between his doctrine and that here laid down, is that
for us the unthinkableness of a negation, or, as the case may
be, the difficulty of thinking it, is not a test of truth, but of
belief. With the following statement we are in substantial
agreement : " An abortive effort to conceive the negation of a
proposition, shows that the cognition expressed is one of
which the predicate invariably exists along with its subject ;
and the discovery th&t the predicate invariably exists along
with its subject, is the discovery that this cognition is one we
are compelled to accept "} So far so good ; but when
Mr. Spencer adds that there can be no " higher warrant," our
agreement ceases. It may always happen that what is found
to be unthinkable at one time, may become thinkable at
another, and vice versd. New data and new points of view are
always capable of working a change ; to fall back on the unthink-
ableness of the opposite as an ultimate test of truth, is simply

^Principles of Psychology, vol. ii., p. 423.
VOL. II. 16

242 Analytic Ir*sychology.

to shut our eyes to further evidence ; logically, Mr. Spencer's
position is identical with that attributed to ladies ; it simply
amounts to saying that " a thing is because it is ". It makes
the mere existence of a belief, or, at any rate, of a full
assurance, the evidence of its truth.

Our position differs from Mr. Spencer's in being purely
psychological, whereas his " universal postulate " belongs to
the theory of knowledge. There is however an objection
which affects us as much as it affects him. It will certainly be
urged by some that we are confusing what is merely unbeliev-
able with what is unthinkable. It will be said that in many
cases we can easily think what we do not and cannot believe.
Mr. Spencer rightly answers that in some cases of belief it is
impossible even to frame the thought of the negation. This is
so in those cases of complete assurance which are called, in the
restricted sense of the term, knowledge. As an example, we
may take the proposition that two and two make four, or that
in Euclidean space two sides of a triangle are together greater
than the third. "The two sides cannot be represented in
consciousness as becoming equal in their joint length to the
third side, without the representation of a triangle being
destroyed." ^ In other cases, it is possible, though difficult, to
think the negation ; but, in these, belief falls short of complete
assurance. Where both alternatives are equally thinkable, we
have the state of complete uncertainty or suspense of judgment.
This is not, however, a sufficient reply. It will still be urged
that we can often easily represent to ourselves what we cannot
believe. Consider an instance given by Mr. Spencer. We
cannot believe that a cannon-ball fired from England
can reach America ; but we may, with comparative ease,
mentally represent it as doing so. The rejoinder to this
objection is simply that it is not the same thing which we find
it easy to represent and impossible to believe. In thinking of

1 Principles of Psychology, vol. ii., p. 408.

Belief and Imagination. 243

the flight of the cannon-ball from England to America, we
simply picture the ball in motion, and the motion as continued
until a distant point is reached. So far as we can represent it,
it is quite credible. We believe that a cannon-ball can move,
and we believe that there are conditions under which it might
move over a very great distance. Where disbelief comes in,
is in connecting the flight to America with the actual conditions
under which the ball was discharged — the size of the gun, the
strength of the explosion, together with our knowledge of the
strength of materials, and of mechanical science in general.
If and so far as these conditions are prominently before
consciousness, the flight to America becomes unthinkable, i.e.,
it is unthinkable precisely in so far as it is incredible. We are
enabled to represent the flight by dismissing from conscious-
ness apperceptive systems which would hinder us from doing
so. But these very systems are those which condition the belief.
Wherever the conditions of belief are complex, it is possible
for part of them to be absent from consciousness ; and, in so
far as this is the case, the negation becomes thinkable. Where
we begin with doubt and end in assurance, the conditions
which determine belief are not present at the outset ; they
emerge in the course of the process. A school-boy, in adding
up, may be in doubt whether five and six make eleven or
twelve ; both alternatives may then be for him equally think-
able. But if he separates six into its units and adds them one
by one to five, the equation 5-1-6=12 becomes for the time
being unthinkable, and he is fully assured of the alternative
equation.

In the following sections (4, 5, 6), I shall give instances of
belief arising in connection with the various modes in which
subjective activity may be limited and restricted. The
content of these sections is mainly a reproduction of what I
have already said in my article on belief in Mind}
' O.S., vol. xvi., No. 64.

244 Analytic Psychology.

§ 4. Belief and Impressional Experience.

" I find," says Berkeley, " I can excite ideas in my mind at
pleasure, and vary and shift the scenes as oft as I think fit. It
is no more than willing, and straightway this or that idea
arises in my fancy ; and by the same power it is obliterated
and makes way for another. This making and unmaking
of ideas doth very properly denominate the mind active.
But, whatever power I may have over my own
thoughts, I find the ideas actually perceived by sense have not
a like dependence on my will. When in broad daylight I
open my eyes it is not in my power to choose whether I shall
see or no, or to determine what particular objects shall
present themselves to my view." 1 This statement in the main
fairly and clearly expresses the antithesis between subjective
freedom and objective coercion which is involved in the
existence of sensation. It is however seriously incomplete in
two respects. In the first place, it fails to notice the peculiar
steadiness belonging to sense-impressions, and communicated
by them to the other elements of the perceptual complex to
which they belong. So soon as attention to an idea becomes
relaxed the idea becomes almost immediately obscured.
Thus, as attention is subject to rhythmical intermission at
short intervals, the ideas attended to " flicker," as Dr. Ward
says, "like the flame of a gas jet". A percept, on the
contrary, may maintain itself in consciousness for a consider-
able time with approximately the same vividness and
distinctness. It possesses a fixity independent of our subjective
activity. The second respect in which Berkeley's statement is
inadequate is that he unduly narrows the range of the antithesis
between subjective selection and objective coercion. He
represents it as existing only between attention to ideas and
attention to percepts. But a little consideration will show that

^ Principles of Human Knowledge, §§ 28, 29.

Belief and Imagination. 245

the same antithesis exists even within the limits of perceptual
attention. Even within these limits our activity is to a large
extent free. We can choose whether we shall open our eyes
or not When they are open we can choose in which direction
we shall look. There is a similar freedom of selection in the
case of touch. In the case of hearing and smell it still exists,
though it is very much restricted. In contrast with the power
of the will over the muscular adaptation of the sense-organs
is its powerlessness to determine the nature of the resulting
sensation. Only those sensations which are immediately
dependent on our own movements form an exception. If we
possessed the same kind of command over other classes of
impressions, then, in the words of Locke, " the eyes of a man
in the dark would produce colours, and his nose smell roses in
the winter".

The range of subjective selection is more limited in the case
of organic sensations. We cannot by any adaptation of the
organs of sense, or local movement, get rid of the toothache.
We may partially divert our attention, or take active measures
to relieve the pain, but that is all.

The belief which simply acknowledges the existence of an
impressional experience is nearly always of the primitive kind.
It accepts without questioning ; it only collides with the
thought of its negation when it destroys a preformed anticipa-
tion, or when the impression is slight or indistinct.

§ 5. The Real as Physical Resistance.

The limits opposed by material obstacles to the free
movement of our limbs constitute a constraint imposed on our
subjective activity. In the experience of the irregular
interruption of otherwise continuous series of muscular
sensations, which, apart from this restriction, are producible at
•will, we apprehend real existence. This reality, together with

246 Analytic Psychology.

that of impressional experience as such, being communicated
to the ideal interpretations by which we link together detached
perceptual appearances in systematic unity, gives rise by a very
complex process to the presentation of a physical world. I
have endeavoured to deal with this subject in my article on
the " Genesis of the Cognition of Physical Reality " in Mind}
The chief point which concerns us here is that belief in
physical reality is throughout conditioned by the limitation of
our subjective activity. It will be useful to enforce this view
by contrasting it with the contrary theory of Mill in the
improved form of statement which it has received from
Dr. Pikler. Dr. Pikler exhibits Mill's dictum as a special case
of the general thesis — that " the •' would be ' of presentation is
the 'ts' of objective existence". He differs from Mill mainly
by his introduction of will as an essential condition of that
permanent possibility of presentation which, as he holds,
constitutes physical reality. A possibility of presentation
which is not within our voluntary control is not an objective
existence. On the other hand, whatever would be presented
if it were our will to move our bodies in a certain way is t/'sa
facto real. I shall confine myself to one objection which
Dr. Pikler has himself noticed and sought to meet.

Presentability at will is a formula which applies to two
radically distinct groups of cases, (i) An object is presentable
at will when the voluntary movements required for its
presentation are merely movements conditioning the perceptive
process. (2) It is presentable at will when the voluntary
movement by altering the environment actually brings into
existence what is afterwards perceived. Now, in the second
group of cases, it would seem that permanent presentability
dependent on volition neither constitutes nor implies actual
existence. We may, if it be our will, break a glass and so

» O. S., No. 57.

Belief and Imagination. 247

obtain the presentation of broken glass. But we do not believe
the glass to be actually broken merely because we can break
it if we like. Dr. Pikler's defence is as follows : " The
various possibilities of effects producible through our will
upon the things surrounding us may be expressed by
saying that these things possess certain objective properties.
Nay, in certain cases we actually express them in that way
In order to feel the resistance or hardness of a thing, it is not
enough to come up close to it, but we must press it ; in
order to feel its weight, we must lift it ; and in order to
ascertain its taste, we must act upon it by resolving it in our
saliva. That things are resistant, hard, heavy, or have a
certain taste, means that by pressing or lifting them, or by
resolving them by our saliva, we are able to obtain certain
presentations." ^ The motions or the endeavours to move,
which are required in some other cases, are only more
complicated. "That a certain thing is inflammable {i.e., if we
scrape it) is just as much an objective property of that thing
as its hardness." It is scarcely needful to point out that this
reference to resistance, hardness, and weight, is irrelevant.
The movements of lifting and pressure which reveal the
existence of these properties play no appreciable part in their
production. The case of taste is somewhat different. But it
is not to the purpose ; for we ordinarily take no account of the
part played by the saliva in the process of tasting. When we
do take account of it, we say that a body does not become
sapid until it is dissolved. In all cases in which the presentation
of an object a is recognised as dependent on a physical change
produced in bodies by our voluntary agency, the fallacy of
Dr. Pikler's contention is obvious. The possibility of producing
such change does indeed imply an objective attribute ; but this
attribute never is and never can be a. I can command at will

^ Psychologv of Objective Existence, p. 77.

248 Analytic Psychology.

the presentation of a body in flames by scraping its surface.
But I do not, therefore, say that it actually is in flames. I
only say that it is inflammable.

Presentability at will implies existence only if and so far as
the reality of the thing presented is independent of the
volition by which it comes to be presented. The movements
by which we bring ourselves into the vicinity of a body and by
which we accommodate our sense-organs, and the use of
artificial aids to perception, such as telescopes or microscopes,
do not as mere conditions of the cognitive process affect the
existence of the thing cognised. We, therefore, regard it as a
matter of indifference whether these voluntary actions are
executed or not. WhaXQ'jex would be presented \i -wq chos^ to
perform such acts must be believed to exist, whether we so act
or not, just because our action would not produce the perceived
object, but merely permit it tq display its reality as in-
dependent of us. This seems to be an adequate account of
what Prof Mark Baldwin^ calls the " memory-coefficient " in
our perception of physical reality. The existence of a
physical thing is primarily presented in sense-perception.
The remembrance that we have perceived, or the anticipation
that we shall or may perceive it, is logically equivalent to the
actual perception. But the remembrance and anticipation
have this force only in so far as they include a reference to the
object as originally revealed to the percipient, i.e., as having
independent existence. Thus the memory-coefficient is
altogether secondary and subordinate to the perceptual
coefficient.

§ 6. Belief and Association.

Association is undoubtedly a cause of belief. If certain
objects have once been co-presented in a certain relation to

' Mind, No. 63, p. 389.

Belief and Imagination. 249

each other, the thought of the one tends to reinstate the
thought of the other, in the same relation in which they were
originally co-presented. It is sometimes impossible to counter-
act this tendency without a mental effort, and the required
mental effort needs, ceteris paribus, to be more strenuous in
proportion as the association is closer. Under these conditions
preformed associations offer resistance to our subjective
activity. In some cases this resistance is insuperable.
James Mill used the term "indissoluble associations" to
designate these connections by which the range of subjective
selection in the combination of ideas is rigidly restricted. He
maintained that all cases of belief are referable to indissoluble
association. For reasons too obvious to mention, I disagree
with this doctrine. But I do agree with him, as against his
son, that cases of indissoluble association are ipso facto cases of
belief. Of course it is assumed that the association operates
within the sphere of thought, and not in anoetic consciousness.
John Mill tells us that "what the author of the Analysis
means by indissoluble associations are those which we cannot
by a mental effort at present overcome. If two ideas are, at
the present moment, so closely associated in our minds, that
neither any effort of our own, nor anything else which can
happen, can enable us to have the one without its instantly
raising up the other, the association is, in the author's sense of
the term, indissoluble." ^ In the main this is a good formulation
of James Mill's view. But in two points it is, I think, capable
of improvement In the first place, the ideas need not be so
closely associated that no effort of our own, nor anything else
than can happen, can enable us to dissolve their connection.
The words " nor anything else that can happen " are un-
necessary and misleading. The essential point is the limitation
or constraint imposed on our subjective activity, under certain

i Note at end of chapter on " Belief," Analysis, vol. i., p. 401.

250 Analytic Psychology.

given conditions, by an association between distinguishable
contents of consciousness. In the second place, it is ambiguous
to speak of "one idea raising up another". To preclude
misunderstanding, it would be better in a formal statement to
say that, when two ideas are indissolubly associated, no effort
on our part can enable us to attend to the object of the one
without its instantly raising up the object of the other, in a
certain fixed relation to itself, as part of a single complex.
But even this wording of the definition is not sufiiciently
guarded. Though a may sometimes fail to call up b in the
way described, yet the association between them may for our
present purpose be rightly regarded as indissoluble ; the
essential point is that when a does recall b, we shall not be
able by any mental effort to substitute for b any other and
incompatible presentation x in the same relation to a.

Bearing in mind this preliminary explanation, let us now
examine J. S. Mill's criticisms. He begins by admitting that
indissoluble, or, as he less happily terms it, inseparable
association, very often suffices to command belief. This
admission can hardly be refused by any one. If I have just
heard a certain series of sounds, and I proceed to recall them
in memory, my belief in their time-order may be wholly or
almost wholly based on association. If I recall the sounds
a, b, c with sufficient vividness and completeness, together with
their accompanying circumstances, I cannot help believing
that d followed c and preceded e. Of course, I am not now
trying to explain how and why we believe in the reality of
past time. This would require a consideration of the whole
question of time-presentation. All I mean to say is that
given a belief in the reality of past time, mere association may
be sufficient to constrain us to represent an event as having a
certain fixed place in a time-series. Mill's admission, I
suppose, comprehends cases like these. It also comprehends
cases of a much more doubtful kind — doubtful not as regards

Belief and I 7nagination. 251

the existence of a belief, but as regards its dependence on
association. Tlius, as we know, he would actually trace our
belief in the infinity of space to this cause. His main
contention as against James Mill is that inseparable associa-
tions do not invariably generate beliefs. It will be sufficient
to examine one of the examples which he adduces. If we
look at a distant terrestrial object through a telescope, it
appears nearer. That is, its appearance is similar to that
which it would present to the naked eye if it were nearer.
According to John Mill, the idea of its nearness is irresistibly
revived by association, although we at the same time are
convinced that it is really far off. But is this so in point of
fact? It is necessary to analyse what we mean by the
distance of an object. As I sit writing, I see a candle before
me ; the sight of it suggests irresistibly the present possibility
of touching it by a movement of my arm, and I believe that I
can so touch it. The cause of my believing that I am able to
do so is that I cannot by any effort represent myself as
unable, except by representing the conditions as altered.
Now suppose that the same visual appearance of distance is
produced by the telescope, in the case of an object which I
know to be altogether out of reach. While I am in the act of
believing that the object is at its real distance, I do not
anticipate that I can touch it by stretching out my arms. But
while I am in the act of thus believing, there is certainly no
irresistible association operative, which compels me to re-
present the object as being within my reach. In other words,
my perception of it is not the same as it would be if I were
not allowing for the fact that I am looking through a telescope.
It is true that there is a certain sense in which I represent the
object as near ; I represent it as near for visual scrutiny. But
in this sense it is near, and I believe it to be so. It is possible
that I may momentarily apprehend it as if it were near in
other respects; but in this case there is, for the time being, a

252 Analytic Psychology,

deception, a false belief, which is, as James Mill says,
•' immediately corrected by accompanying reflection ". But
this accompanying reflection corrects the belief by dissolving
the association.

James Mill was right in holding that a connection of ideas
which at any moment we find to be indissoluble by mental
effort is at that moment a belief. But he erred in regarding
this relative inseparability as dependent merely on the strength
and intimacy of the association between the ideas connected.
The closest association between a and b fails to enforce the
combination ah, if this combination is opposed in any instance
by sufficiently powerful counter-associations. Thus we readily
correct the error momentarily induced by a ventriloquist, who
makes lay figures appear to speak. On the other hand, a
comparatively feeble association may command belief merely
from the absence of counter-associations. This is the basis of
Bain's doctrine of primitive credulity — a doctrine fully borne
out by all that we know of the beliefs of children and savages^
and of the suggested beliefs of hypnotic patients. " It never
occurs to the child to question any statement made to it until
some positive force on the side of scepticism has been
developed." Similarly, a suggestible patient may be made to
believe that he is Julius Caesar, or a pig, simply because
opposing mental connections are inoperative.

§ 7. Apperception and Belief.

Ideal combinations may be separable or inseparable
according as this or that apperceptive system happens to be
predominant. This is best seen in its pathological exaggera-
tion in the case of suggestible patients. The operator calls
into play a certain group of mental factors ; this group has
unchallenged predominance ; for all other constituents of the
total mental system are relatively dormant. Ideal combina-

Belief and Imagination. 253

tions which are coherent with the suggested group are ipso
facto beliefs, however absurd they may be in themselves. A
patient to whom it has been suggested that he is Emperor of
China will believe all that occurs to his mind as implied in his
imperial position. He cannot by an effort of will represent
things otherwise than as they are brought before his conscious-
ness by external suggestion. He must, therefore, accept the
suggested situation as real. The apparent reality of dreams
is to be explained in a similar way.

Some of the examples quoted by the author of the Analysis ^
and examined by J. S. Mill, ought to be considered from this
point of view. I shall refer to one only. Sailors have seen
prints of a foot resembling those of a man, and the idea is
raised of man making the print. When they afterwards see a
monkey, whose feet leave traces almost similar, the idea is also
raised of a monkey making the print ; and the state of their
minds, according to the elder Mill, is doubt. " First, the print
raises the idea of a man, but the instant it does so, it also
raises the idea of a monkey." Each idea displaces the other in
turn and hinders it "from that fixity which constitutes belief ".1
On this John Mill remarks : " This alternation between the two
ideas . . . may very well take place without hindering one of
the two from being accompanied by belief Suppose the
sailors to obtain conclusive evidence, testimonial or circum-
stantial, that the prints were made by a monkey. It may
happen, nevertheless, that the remarkable resemblance of the
footprints to those of a man does not cease to force itself upon
their notice : in other words, they continue to associate the
idea of a man with the footsteps." 2 In this criticism there
appear to me to be two fallacies. In the first place, it is
incumbent on the critic to show not merely that an association

1 Analysis, vol. i., p. 430.
» Note at end of chapter on "Evidence," Analysis^ vol. i., pp. 434-435'

254 Analytic Psychology.

between the footprint and a man may persist, but also that the
association which persists is the same with that which existed
before the opposing testimony regarding the monkey had been
obtained. The sight of the footstep suggested the idea of a
man as having produced it, not merely as being capable of
producing it. If this latter association remains indissoluble,
so does the corresponding belief The sailors still believe that
men produce footprints of that kind. But Mill might urge
that, even after the conclusive testimony to the agency of the
monkey, it is possible for the original ideal connection to recur
at least momentarily with coercive force. This is true. But
the important point is that this possibility lasts only so long
as the sailor is comparatively oblivious of the conclusive
evidence connecting the existence of the footprint with the
agency of the monkey. So long as the apperceptive system,
which is the psychological counterpart of testimony in general
and of this testimony in particular, is inoperative, there is room
for the momentary belief that the man made the footprint.
The sailor would probably say that sometimes when he looked
at it he could hardly help believing it was a man's, although,
of course, he knew it was not.

§ 8. Desire as a Cause of Belief.

If a certain objective combination presents itself as the only
condition, or the most favourable condition, of obtaining a
certain end, the active tendency towards this end is of itself a
tendency to believe in the objective combination. If denial is
tantamount to sacrificing a cherished aim, the whole strength
of the desire contributes to enforce the affirmative side.
Hence, as general experience testifies, we believe readily what
we wish to believe, and are hard to persuade against our will.
It is true that the danger and disappointment which this
natural tendency is apt to entail, sometimes give rise to an

Belief and Imagination. 255

opposite habit of mind. Just as people are sometimes afraid
of doing what is pleasant lest it be contrary to duty, so they
may be afraid of believing what is pleasant lest they should be
misled by natural bias. But the primary tendency is to
believe what favours our interests, and disbelieve what runs
counter to them.

This influence of desire on belief often operates by simply
diverting the attention from counter-evidence. The more
overpowering the conation is, the more likely is this to be the
case. Those who are blinded by passion rush headlong to
their goal, without taking account of possible obstacles. An
angry man will not listen to reason. Testimony on the side
opposed to a vehement desire is simply reduced to silence.
The mind is so absolutely preoccupied by certain tendencies,
that whatever crosses them either never comes before
consciousness at all, or, if it does, is immediately dismissed.

But the operation of desire does not lie solely in thus
packing the jury, or producing a mental squint. It also
directly intensifies the resistance offered by a mental combina-
tion to conditions which might otherwise dissolve it. When a
man strives to be impartial in the face of pre-existing bias,
he finds that he is engaged in a struggle against the opposing
force of desire. The prejudice clings to him and resists his
efforts to shake it off. The attempt to think otherwise is
directly obstructed, in so far as thinking otherwise is
equivalent to the destruction of hopes, the arrest of activity,
the thwarting of desire. It follows from this that, ceteris
paribus, the more vigorous and active the mind is, the
more ready it is to believe. Youth is sanguine ; age is
sceptical and hesitates to adapt new views. Whatever
temporarily heightens the flow of mental activity, favours
the believing attitude. " Elation," as Dr. Bain says,
" strengthens the believing temper with respect to whatever is
at hand. A traveller in quest of new regions is subject to

256 Analytic Psychology.

alternations of confidence according to the states of mind that
he passes through, from whatever cause. He is more sanguine
when he is refreshed and vigorous, when the day is balmy, or
the scenery cheerful, there being no real accession of evidence
through any of these circumstances." ^

Beliefs formed under the influence of the desire to believe
are liable to be checked by counter-experiences. Where this
check fails, they persist and are persistently acted upon. But
the more often they are acted upon, the more completely they
become incorporated with the original conation so as to
become an integral part of it ; hence the support they receive
from it is increased. At the same time association fixes and
perpetuates the mental connection ; the belief so formed
moulds and determines the growth of the mind ; in process of
time it becomes more and more inseparably connected with a
whole system of beliefs which support it and help to explain
away whatever contradicts it. We may take as an example
the belief in " rain-making " ceremonies so common among
savage tribes. Dr. Livingstone says of the Bokwains : " The
natives, finding it irksome to sit and wait helplessly until God
gives them rain from heaven, entertain the more comfortable
idea that they can help themselves by a variety of preparations,
such as charcoal made of burned bats, inspissated renal deposit
of the mountain coney, . . . the internal parts of different
animals, . . . serpents' skins and vertebrae, and every
kind of tuber, bulb, root and plant to be found in the
country ".* In order to bring out clearly the point of view
of the savage mind in this matter, Livingstone gives an
imaginarj' conversation between a rain doctor and a medical
doctor. With strict psychological, though little logical,
relevance, the savage doctor insists on the value of the rain.

' Mental and Moral Scienu, p. 381.

' Missionary Travels in South Africa, p. 22.

Belief and Imagination. 257

" If we had no rain, the cattle would have no pasture, the cows
give no milk, our children become lean and die, our wives run
away to other tribes who do make rain and have corn, and the
whole tribe become dispersed and lost ; our fire would go out." ^
The medical doctor says that God alone can command the
clouds. " Only try and wait patiently ; God will give us rain
without your medicines." The answer is : " Whoever thought
of making trial of starvation ! is death pleasant then?" It is
in vain to represent the want of connection between the
supposed cause and the supposed effect : for the circle of
savage ideas as to natural causation is too different in kind from
that of the civilised man to enable the savage mind to see the
absurdity. The belief in rain-making forms part of a more or
less coherent system of beliefs, which have been moulded by
it, and which it has helped to mould. "Other tribes place
medicines about our country to prevent the rain ... we
must dissolve their charms by our medicines." The savage
view is supported by the whole weight of tradition and general
consent. " When we first opened our eyes, we found our
forefathers making rain, and we follow in their footsteps." It
is useless to appeal to the test of direct experience. The rain
doctor says to the medical doctor : " I use my medicines, you
employ yours : we are both doctors, and doctors are not
deceivers. You give a patient medicine. Sometimes God is
pleased to heal him by means of your medicine ; sometimes
not — he dies. When he is cured, you take the credit of what
God does. I do the same. Sometimes God grants us rain,
sometimes not. When He does, we take the credit of the
charm. When a patient dies, you don't give up trust in your
medicine,, neither do I when rain fails. If you wish me to
leave off my medicines, why continue your own ? " *

^ Missionary Travels in South Africa, p. 24.
' Ibid., pp. 24-25.
VOL. II. 17

258 Analytic Psychology.

A theoretical objection may at this point present itself
to the reader's mind. We have said that belief " involves
the control of our activity as thinking beings by conditions
which are fixed for us and not by us "} It may be urged
that this view is inconsistent with the admission that the
desire to believe is in itself a cause of belief But in the
first place it must be noted that the desire to believe is a
result of the limitation of our activity. It is forced on us
by our inability to realise our ends immediately. The
necessity for the use of means is fixed for us and not by
us. So, too, the limitation in the choice of means due to the
limitation of our experience, is a necessity fixed for us, and not
by us. In the second place, what is in itself a subjective
tendency, may be, in relation to another subjective tendency,
a restricting or controlling condition. The desire to live
after death is one subjective tendency ; the love of the truth
for its own sake is another. Under the influence of the
scientific impulse, we may strive to sift impartially the
evidence for and against immortality : but the desire for
continued individual existence will resist the attempt to think
of death as the final cessation of our individual consciousness.

§ 9. Primitive Credulity.

The serious beliefs of the savage appear to the civilised man
like a wild play of fancy ; and it is difficult for him to realise
that for any mind they can be real convictions. It seems to
him as if savages believed whatever came into their heads,
and that what to him are vagaries of imagination are to
them facts. Modern anthropology has, however, shown that
their madness is full of method. The root of the matter is
that they must make themselves at home in the world some-
how. They have a multitude of practical, and, to some

^ P. 239.

Belief and Imagination. 259

extent, of theoretical needs, which cry out for satisfaction : and
the material for satisfying them is limited. This limitation
acts in two ways. In the first place, thought-combinations are
possible for them which are impossible for us ; because in us
they would clash with whole systems of ideas which in the
comparatively undeveloped consciousness of the savage have
no existence. In the second place, the limitation of their
material limits their choice of alternatives. They have to follow
out certain lines of mental activity, because no others present
themselves. Belief is that by which we live ; and, since the
savage must live as he can, so he must believe as he can.
Compelled to travel in a pathless wilderness, it is no wonder
that the slightest suggestions of a track are enough to
determine his course ; and when it has been so long traversed
as to become a beaten track, it is no wonder that he should
obstinately adhere to it. Unacquainted with the modes of
natural causation as revealed to civilised science, his mind
adapts Itself to the mysteries of nature in the only way it can —
by representing natural agencies as analogous to those with
which he is familiar, viz., those of human beings. Hence his
animism and anthropomorphism. It is under the conditions
of savage life that we meet with the best, if not the only,
examples of that curious fallacy described by Hume — the
confusion of subjective with objective necessity. Any associa-
tion between A and B through which the idea of A calls up
the idea of B, leads to a belief in a causal relation between
them, or at least leads the existence of A to be regarded as
forerunning or indicating the existence of B. The practices
of magic supply a vast variety of examples. There is, or was,
a superstition among sailors that whistling at sea will raise a
" whistling " gale : to melt the waxen image of a man is to
produce his death : to destroy his footprints is to spoil his
journey or otherwise hinder him. The clothes a person has
worn, or the cuttings of his hairs and nails, are supposed to be

26o Analytic Psychology.

in mysterious sympathy with himself, so that he can be
injured by their means. " The simple idea of joining two
objects with a cord, taking for granted that this communication
will establish connection or carry influence, has been worked
out in various ways in the world." ^ The destruction of a
looking-glass is a sign of death, for it suggests the destruction
of the persons whose images have been reflected in it. Any
one who has tried the Psychical Research experiment of
attempting to communicate his thoughts to another by mere
mental concentration, will have found how strong the
disposition is to beh'eve that he is actually doing so. It would
be easy to give illustrations sufficient to fill a volume. They
show how slight is the basis needed for the formation of a
fixed belief, where practical interests are involved, and where
alternative lines of thought are absent.

§ 10. The Conditions of Imagination.

To imagine is simply to think of an object, without
believing, disbelieving, or doubting its existence. How is this
mental attitude possible? In the first place, a negative
condition must be fulfilled. Those associative and apper-
ceptive combinations which would destroy or repress the
imagined combination, must lie dormant. In reading a fairy-
tale, a wide circle of ideas embracing our knowledge of
natural causation, must be in abeyance, if there is to be an
illusion. But this in itself is not enough ; it serves to make
certain mental combinations possible which would be otherwise
impossible ; but it does not explain why these combinations
are merely floating ideas, and not beliefs. In the hypnotic
trance, and in dreams, ideal representations take place which
the normal conditions of waking life exclude ; and the reason
is, that the mental dispositions which would interfere with

^ Tylor, Primitive Culture, vol. i., p. 117.

Belief and Imagination. 261

them are for the time being inoperative. The result, however,
is not imagination, but absurd belief. The difference may be
in part accounted for by the difference in the mode in which
interfering conditions are excluded. The apperceptive dis-
positions which fail to exercise their controlling influence in
dreams, are rendered inert by circumstances independent of
our subjective wish or will. In trains of imagination, on the
other hand, they are absent, merely because the direction of
our subjective interest for the time being excludes them. But
this distinction, again, is not adequate ; for in the blinding
influence of passion, we find dominant desire paralysing the
action of those constituents of the mental system, which might
interfere with a certain train of ideas ; and yet the result is,
not imagination, but biassed belief. A person carried away
by passion is ready to act on his perverted judgment, and to
make it the basis of reasonings leading to new beliefs. But
the attitude of imagination is quite different. The imagined
combinations, as such, are never made the basis of action with
a view to an end, or of reasoning with a view to the establish-
ment of a fact. So soon as the mind begins to treat its
floating ideas as a means to the realisation of an ulterior end,
theoretical or practical, opposing mental combinations, which
have previously lain dormant, immediately springing into
action destroys nascent belief We here find the essential
positive conditions of constructive imagination. The activity
of ideal combination exists for its own sake, and not for an
ulterior end. It is not directed towards any actual change in
the external world, or towards the extension of the preformed
body of beliefs. Hence the imagined combinations do not
present themselves in that relation to activity which, in
agreement with Bain, we hold to be essential to the believing
attitude. It is true that the activity of imagination has an end
in view, — an aesthetic end , it aims at bringing pleasing
elements into pleasing relations, so as to constitute a pleasing

262 Analytic Psychology.

whole. But the means for the attainment of this end are not
the imagined objects as such, but the representation of them.
So far as the mind considers its mental combinations with
respect to the aesthetic end, its attitude becomes critical, and
gives rise to aesthetic judgments, not to the play of fancy.
Such judgments relate largely to the internal congruence of
the different parts of the aesthetic whole. This constitutes one
form of truth in artistic imagination. Combinations within the
imaginative process must be consistent with each other,
however free they may be from external control.

§ II. Imagination as Play.

The essential nature of make-believe may be further
elucidated by the general conception of " play " as opposed to
" earnest ". It may indeed be regarded, at least in its aesthetic
and quasi-aesthetic function, as a play of the intellect, a
sporting with ideas. Now the most obvious characteristic of
play is that it is an activity which exists for its own sake, not
for any ulterior end. This is seen, as Professor Lazarus
points out, even in metaphorical applications of the word.
We speak of the " play " of a fountain, because the movement
of the water in this case simply returns upon itself. We do
not speak of the " play " of a river which is rushing towards
the sea : for this movement is considered as having a goal or
end other than its own existence. Like the play of the
fountain, a game at whist or chess or billiards or football or
patience is an end in itself. Its own intrinsic interest
constitutes the condition of its possibility, its ratio essendi. If
we are pursuing it with some ulterior end in view, e.g., to win
money, then pro tanto it ceases to be play and becomes earnest.
To put the same point in another way, those activities which
we call play are characterised by their relative insulation, their
detachment from the general system of human ends and aims.

Belief and Imagination. 263

They are essentially unpractical, apart from their reflex
influence on the mind. A game of whist, as such, leaves no
result which can form a stepping stone to new results in the
complex series of actions constituting the main stream of our
existence, — actions each of which is in certain aspects a
means, in other aspects an end. It simply passes time, or, to
use a more emphatic expression, kills time. Play, while it
lasts, and in proportion as it is merely play, forms a kind of
universe of interest by itself Nor is this all. Besides the
detachment of play in general from the total system of human
ends, each playful activity is isolated from others. The moves
I make in one game of chess do not, as such, affect the course
of the next. Of course it may happen that my skill improves
by practice. But it is noteworthy that just in so far as I con-
sciously aim at improvement in this way, my mental attitude
ceases to be merely sportive. In trying to fix in my mind
chess positions and artifices for future use, I am turning a
game into a serious pursuit.

Now, as games or other pastimes are detached from the
general network of relations which make up the system of
human life, so make-believe is detached from the general
network of relations which make up the system of human
knowledge and belief Reading a fairy-tale or a novel is in
this respect like playing at billiards or at football. And just
as the playful attitude of mind is only possible on condition
that we dismiss those practical interests which are irrelevant
to it, so make-believe is only possible on condition that we
abstain from thinking of the systematic interconnection of
facts in the real world in so far as it logically excludes or at
least fails to include the make-believe circle of ideas. .Esthetic
illusion is simply make-believe, and make-believe is a kind of
intellectual game. But it does not follow from this that art is
nothing but play. Art is playful only in so far as it is illusion,
iiut It is not merely illusion ; if it were, it could not be art. A

264 Analytic Psychology.

work of fancy or imagination must be leavened throughout by
make-believe ; but the leaven is not the loaf. In order to get
a starting-point for free construction we must, to some extent,
cut off the points of attachment between our ideas and that
system which forms our knowledge of the real world as a
single connected whole. But we do not and cannot do so
completely. Otherwise the result would not be aesthetic
illusion, but mere nonsense. The degree of detachment from
the real differs in different cases. It is greater in Grimm's
Fairy Tales than in TJie Ring and the Book.

Make-believe involves not only making, but belief which is
made. So far as aesthetic illusion extends, the making or
fiction extends, and our ideas merely float without anchorage.
But within the sphere of the illusion, within the floating circle
of ideas, there is plenty of room for judgments of real
significance, — for judgments which apply mutatis mutandis to
the real world. Thus the plot of a story may be a fiction, and
the characters may be fictitious also in some degree, and yet
the development of the characters and of the incidents may be
accepted as true and natural. Indeed, it may fairly be
maintained that in this respect a fiction, just because it is
fictitious, has an advantage over a matter-of-fact narrative, eg.,
a biography or history. For in the evolution of a train of
historical events a multitude of conditions are at work, which
can only be very partially ascertained : hence the historian
must either leave the connection of events to a great extent
obscure, or abandon matter-of-fact and indulge in make-believe.

The constructive imagination, on the other hand, lays down
its own conditions at the outset. It is autonomous instead of
being a slave of the actual. " Truth, narrative and past, is the
idol of historians (who worship a dead thing), and truth
operative, and by effects continually alive, is the mistress of
poets, who hath not her existence in matter, but in reason." ^
^ Davenant (quoted by Coleridge, Biog. Lit., p. 215).

Belief and Imaginatioii. 265

It must never be forgotten, however, that this truth is only
obtained by artifice.

Up to this point we have regarded the mind's play with
floating systems of ideas only in so far as it assumes an
artistic form. But it must be carefully noted that this is only
a part of the whole office of imagination. We play with ideas
on numberless occasions when art is far from our thoughts.

All castle-building and day-dreaming come under this head.
As T. Brown says : " The dullest plodder . . . who sums
up, in the evening, his daily tables of profit and loss, and who
rises in the morning with the sole object of adding a few
ciphers to that book of pounds and pence, which contains the
whole annual history of his life, — even he, while he half lays
down his quill to think of future prices . . . has his visions
and inspirations like the sublimest poet ".^ Even sensible and
serious persons have moments of reverie in which they picture
themselves as in desirable though unattainable situations, or as
invested with desirable though unattainable power, — simply
indulging themselves in the thought of such things without
raising the question of their possibility. I have known quite
prosaic persons who confessed that they frequently in hours of
relaxation wove little romantic dramas in which they
themselves figured as taking a striking part and gaining
applause by the brilliancy of their conversation. All these
structures in the air, whether they be castles or cottages or
hovels, agree in being detached from earth and floating loose.
They are, in fact, floating ideas.

§ 12. Influence of Imagination on Conduct.

Make-believe cannot determine action as belief does. It
does not constitute points of support by means of which we
can advance to the attainment of ulterior ends, practical or

' Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. ii., p. 377.

266 Analytic Psycho cogy.

theoretical. But, in other ways, floating ideas are certainly-
capable of influencing conduct. They do so mainly by
supplying, intensifying, or developing ideas of ends to be
realised. The actor, in playing his part, is guided throughout
by his idea of the character which he represents. He thinks
of himself as being that character without believing that he is
so. The boys who come to grief through reading stories of
pirates and highwaymen do not necessarily take these
romances for matter-of-fact. Goethe's novel Werther is said
to have produced many suicides.

Those who doubt the importance of the influence of artistic
fiction on the mind, and so indirectly on conduct, will probably
be more ready to admit the analogous efficacy of that private
kind of romance which in one of its forms is called " building
castles in the air ". This kind of make-believe very often takes
the form of a drama, in which the day-dreamer is himself the
central figure ; and when this is so, its tendency to influence
conduct is greatest. It often seems a harmless thing to allow
our minds to dwell on the idea of an act which we recognise
as wrong. It seems the more harmless when the act is so
contrary to our principles that we are convinced we should
never be capable of actually doing it. Now this is just the
most insidious form of temptation. By mentally playing with
the idea, we are making it more vivid, distinct, and persistent ;
and the more vivid, distinct, and persistent it is, the more
powerful is its tendency to realise itself. Thus we may
ultimately find ourselves actually doing what we at first
thought a moral impossibility, or at least something substanti-
ally analogous to it. The whole psychological process is
admirably described and analysed in a remarkable novel by
Dostoievsky, — TJie Crime and the Punishment.

There is yet another way in which "make-believe" may lead
us to conduct which our reason and conscience condemn. Pro-
fessor Sidgwick has recently drawn attention to those cases in

Belief and Imagination. 267

which we act contrary to a general resolution under the influence
of a seductive feeling. He points out that in so doing we
usually avail ourselves of some pretext which, so to speak,
smoothes the way to the unreasonable action by giving it,
for the time being, some appearance of reasonableness. He
distinguishes two classes of instances. In the one we
erroneously but sincerely persuade ourselves that the general
rule is inapplicable : in the other we sophisticate ourselves,
*' being obscurely aware of the sophistry ". It is with the latter
case that we are here concerned. The interesting question
is : How does the self-sophistication take place ? Now it
seems to me that I never in such cases judge that my pretext
is valid. My action is not the result of such a judgment. If
it were, my action would be a relatively rational one. On the
other hand, I do not usually judge that the pretext is invalid.
What happens is that I dismiss the question of its validity or
invalidity, and simply dwell on it as a floating idea. At the
outset I may be in some measure aware that my excuse is
futile ; but the seductive feeling leads me to contemplate it
complacently, and to let slip from my mind countervailing
considerations. Thus it comes to fill the field of consciousness
merely as a floating idea, and allows the "seductive feeling"
to determine action by guarding against interference.

CHAPTER XII.
PLEASURE AND PAIN.

§ I. Statement of Problem.

Some psycho-physical processes are pleasantly toned, others

unpleasantly toned, and yet others almost, if not quite,

indifferent. The question which confronts us is : What is the

difference in the nature of variously toned processes, on which

the difference in tone depends ? There is a common answer

to this question, which must be dismissed at the outset, as not

satisfying the conditions of the problem. Roughly speaking,

agreeable feeling is attached to processes which conduce to the

welfare of the organism ; and disagreeable feeling to those

which are injurious. Many writers have seized on this broad

fact, and made it the basis of a general theory. But in the

attempt to carry out this view, they have found themselves

confronted by striking exceptions. Alcoholic intoxication,

for instance, is pleasant but not advantageous. In recent

times an attempt, on the whole successful, has been made to

restate the general principle in such a way as to explain the

existence of exceptions. The general correspondence between

pleasure and organic welfare, and between pain and organic

injury, has been traced back to the operation of natural

selection. Animals which took pleasure in what was injurious

to them, or failed to take pleasure in what made for their

welfare, would be at a disadvantage in the struggle for

existence. Hence, in the long run, pleasant experiences

(268)

Pleasure and Pain. 269

would come to be coincident with beneficial states or actions,
and unpleasant experiences with the contrary. On this view,
however, there is no reason to expect the correspondence to
be absolute. It will exist only in so far as natural selection
has come effectively into play. This doctrine, first expounded
by Herbert Spencer, has a very high degree of probability in
its favour. But it is not a psychological or a physiological
theory of pleasure and pain. It is only, as Mr. H. R. Marshall
observes, a theory of the distribution of particular pleasures
and pains. It does not define the nature of an agreeable
process, as such, and of a disagreeable process, as such. But
such a definition, in terms of neural process, or of psychical
process, or of both, is what we require. Even a physiological
statement which should refer only to the antecedent conditions
of neural process, such as the nature of external stimulation,
or the state of the organs engaged in vital functions, is not
sufficient. The immediate concomitant of consciousness is
excitation of the nervous substance ; and all ultimate
physiological explanation must have reference to this.

As psychologists, it belongs to our plan to start with the
most plain and obvious acts of consciousness; and to frame
from these a provisional generalisation. Passing, then, to
those cases in which the conditions of pleasure-pain are not
clearly definable in psychical terms, we shall attempt to
indicate the sort of physiological hypothesis, which seems most
in accord with the psychological data. Here, as elsewhere,
we shall carefully refrain from any attempt to decide debat-
able questions of physiology either on psychological or on
phj^siological grounds.

§ 2. General View.

Theories of pleasure-pain in general err by being too one-
sided. They start, as a rule, from some conspicuous class of

270 Analytic Psychology.

cases, which they regard as typical. Generalising on this
basis, they attempt to reduce other cases to the same rule ;
and, in doing so, find themselves compelled to strain the facts
to suit a preconception. I claim for the view which I here
advocate the merit of comprehensiveness. All the varying
principles of explanation which have found favour with
psychologists may be regarded as special applications of it.
The reader is already familiar with my general doctrine. It
has pervaded the whole treatment of psychological topics in
this work. The aim of the present chapter is to present it in
a more systematic form, and to guard it against objections.
Our starting-point lies in the conception of mental activity, as
the direction of mental process towards an end. The end is
attained when the process works itself out to a conclusion, and
so ceases. End thus means both the mark aimed at, and the
termination of activity. It is essential for the attainment of
an end that the process should work itself out, and not be
merely displaced by some other process, or have its course cut
short by any extraneous conditions. The antithesis between
pleasure and pain is coincident with the antithesis between
free and impeded progress towards an end. Unimpeded
progress is pleasant in proportion to the intensity and
complexity of mental excitement. An activity which is
thwarted or retarded either by the presence of positive
obstruction, or by the absence of co-operative conditions, or m
any other conceivable way, is painful in proportion to its
intensity and complexity, and to the degree of the hindrance.
This is easy enough to work out on the psychical side. The
type of the painful state is Tantalus, continually reaching after
the fruit which continually evaded him. All pain consists
in being somehow tantalised^ — in having a mental tendency
at once stimulated and obstructed. The counterpart on the
side of pleasure to the state of Tantalus is not, however, that
of immediate and complete attainment. It is the smooth

Pleasure and Pain. 271

and prosperous progress towards attainment. With ultimate
attainment, the mental tendency ceases to operate, and the
pleasure ceases also. It is in the intermediate activity that
enjoyment arises. Disturbance of equilibrium is not, as such,
painful ; otherwise all consciousness would be painful. Nor is
equilibrium itself pleasant ; otherwise all pleasant states
would be states of unconsciousness.

§ 3. Psychological Application

There is no difficulty in applying our general principle of
explanation, if and so far as the conditions of pleasure-pain
are susceptible of being stated in purely psychological terms.
Reserving the discussion of purely physiological conditions, we
shall first consider those aspects of the problem which can be
dealt with without any reference to the material concomitants
and antecedents of mental process. The most notable
attempt to treat the problem from this side, is that of Herbart
and his disciples. Volkmann, for instance, regards pleasure
as arising in connection with the relief of a presentation from
arrest. So long as the presentation remains below that
degree of prominence in consciousness, which the conditions
of mental equilibrium at the time allow to it, it continues to
rise in intensity ; and this recovery of its due position is felt as
pleasure. Pain exists in the inverse case, where a presentation
has more than its due prominence in consciousness, and where,
therefore, it is in process of being reduced to a lower intensity.
Volkmann thus makes the antithesis between pleasure and
pain coincident with that between free expansion and forced
repression ; and to this extent we agree with him. But he
entirely misses our conception of activity. On his view, all
disappearance of presentations from consciousness ought to be
painful in proportion to its rapidity. But this is obviously
untrue. A presentation may disappear without the slightest

272 Analytic Psychology.

admixture of disagreeable consciousness, if it be no longer
wanted.

In the choice of examples perplexity arises from the very
abundance of the material, and also from the trite and obvious
nature of most of the instances which present themselves.
We begin, therefore, by begging the reader to note that a vast
mass of cases is of this trite and obvious kind. This in itself
is a great advantage ; and it is all in favour of a theory that it
should have its starting-point in the most plain and undeniable
facts. Professor Bain appears to wave aside a large class of
experiences as scarce worthy of consideration, simply because
they are familiar and elementary. " In the every-day pursuits
of actual life, we may have our aims, expectations, and
pursuits either aided, realised, and fulfilled, or else thwarted
and baffled. The one case is attended with pleasure, the
other with pain. . . . There can hardly be any fact more
elementary than that the gain of a pleasure is pleasant, and its
loss correspondingly painful. To receive aid and support in
our various endeavours is the same as to be successful in those
endeavours, and obversely, . . . Every circumstance that,
on the one hand, lightens or eases our labours and burdens, or,
on the other hand, increases or aggravates them, is pleasurable
or painful according to the case. This, too, is a mere
necessity of our constitution, and not a separate law of the
mind. There is a pleasure in putting forth a degree of
exertion within our strength and our skill ; the opposite is
painful. . . . To have the attention distracted by collateral
solicitations is a pain of conflict, otherwise expressed by loss
of strength and marring of efficiency." ^ What is the precise
nature of the distinction which Dr. Bain here draws between
"a mere necessity of our constitution," and "a separate law of the
mind " ? Perhaps he adopts this curious tone of disparagement

* " Pleasure and Pain," MiW, N.S., vol. i, No. a.

Pleasure and Pain. 273

because he regards the statement that successful endeavour is
pleasant, and unsuccessful painful, as a mere tautology, — as
equivalent, indeed, to the statement that being pleased is
being pleased, and being pained is being pained. But this is
a pure misunderstanding. We do not say that the gain of a
pleasure is pleasant, but that the gaining of an end is pleasant ;
nor do we say that the loss of a pleasure, as such, is painful,
but that the thwarted striving, craving or desire, which follows
the loss, is painful. Apart from the existence of such striving
or craving, the loss of a pleasure would not be unpleasant, but
would be merely indifferent.

We begin with that class of pains which is in any way due to
being bored or distracted. There are manifold ways in which
this form of disagreeable consciousness may arise ; but all have
one point in common. The attention is in some way confined
to comparatively indifferent or actually distasteful objects, so
as to suppress the free flow of mental activity which tends in
other directions. The disagreeableness of voluntary attention
is of this kind. We determine to fix our thoughts on a certain
topic, in order that by that means we may attain some ulterior
end. But the topic in itself is not stimulating : hence the
mind constantly tends to wander, and has to be as constantly
recalled. It is the arrest of mental activity in the repressed
tendency to pursue other lines of thought or action, which
occasions pain. Another source of tedium is to be found in
the restlessness which marks the state of wanting to do some-
thing, and finding nothing definite to do. This is especially
apt to arise when we are finished with some important
occupation, and find ourselves at a loss how to spend the time.
In common parlance this is well described as " being at a loose
end ". Tedium also often arises in listening to a discourse.
The topic discussed may be uninteresting, and yet we feel
called upon to try to attend to it ; so that the natural direction

of our mental activity is thwarted. On the other hand, the
VOL. II. 18

274 Analytic Psychology.

topic may be interesting, but the mode of treatment such as to
produce tedium. We may not apprehend the meaning of the
speaker readily enough, or we may apprehend it too readily.
The development of his thoughts may go too fast for ours. In
this case our attention is solicited in two directions at once.
We endeavour to follow what is being said, and at the same
time to grasp what has previously been said, and each of the
two competing tendencies interferes with the other, so as
to result in a painful struggle. The inverse happens when
our ideas outrun those conveyed by the speaker, — and
the result is the same, so far as concerns the present
point. Perhaps the most ordinary and painful kind of
tedium is that which is due to monotony : " The languid
uneasiness which we feel from the long continuance of one
unvaried object, or from a succession of objects so nearly
similar as scarcely to appear varied "} The objects may at
the outset have been interesting, but in the course of time
their interest becomes exhausted. The conations which arise
in connection with them approximate to, or attain, satisfaction,
and so cease. When under these circumstances they are
unavoidably thrust upon us in sense-perception or otherwise,
they are simply a clog on the flow of mental activity, which
tends to seek other channels. " What patience," says Brown,
" could travel for a whole day, along one endless avenue, with
perfect parallelism of the two straight lines, and with trees of
the same species and height, succeeding each other exactly at
the same intervals?" What we should feel with most
" fretfulness, would be the constant disappointment of our
expectation, that the last tree which we beheld in the distance,
would be the last that was to rise upon us : when, tree after
tree, as if in mockery of our very patience itself, would still
continue to present the same dismal continuity of line ".*

1 Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. iii., p. 56.
^Ibid., pp. 58, 59.

Pleasure and Pain. 275

The pains we have so far discussed are due rather to
competition than to conflict. They arise from attention being
drawn simultaneously to disparate objects, rather than from
any obstrrction which it encounters in a given direction. We
turn now to those cases in which mental activity finds an
obstacle barring the path to its goal. To begin with a very
simple instance, consider the annoyance which those who are
interested in books feel in seeing one upside down on their
shelves. The unusual position of itself attracts attention,
because it is unusual. At the same time it thwarts attention,
because it involves a reversal of our preconception of a book
and its uses. We cannot freely develop our idea of a book so
long as we mentally represent it as upside down. The pain of
balked expectation is of a similar kind. I enter a room
expecting to find somebody in it, and find nobody. If the
anticipated interview was of a disagreeable nature, the surprise
will be so far a pleasant one : but if we exclude this condition,
the result is always more or less unpleasant, and the
unpleasantness is often out of all proportion to anticipated
pleasure. We are taken aback : the course of mental activity
at the moment is arrested and thrown back upon itself; and
the pain is, so to speak, located by us at the point of collision
between the outgoing of our energy in a certain direction, and
the obstacle which bars its way. Here the question arises
whether surprise is always disagreeable. Bain has adduced it
as an instance of a neutral state of feeling. The difficulty lies
in separating the surprise itself from the circumstances which
cause it. Where these are agreeable or disagreeable, surprise
is proportionally agreeable or disagreeable. It enhances the
pleasure or pain because it augments the degree of mental
excitement. When the circumstance which causes the
surprise is comparatively indifferent, its tone depends upon the
course taken by the mental process of which it is the initial
stage. It excites curiosity ; there is a mental attempt to

276 Analytic Psychology.

account for it Now where this mental tendency is utterly-
baffled, so that we cannot even make a plausible guess as to
how the strange fact can have taken place, the pain of
bewilderment or perplexity arises. When, on the other hand,
we find in the curious incident a field for the more or less free
exercise of our ingenuity, or when we can readily account for
it on reflection without any special ingenuity, we to that
extent experience pleasure. The main point is that surprise
must not be considered purely by itself, but rather as the
initial stage of a process, however brief According as this
process is or is not impeded, surprise is or is not pleasing.

The hedonic effect of all strangeness or novelty is in general
dependent on the same condition. Its efficacy in producing
either pleasure or pain is proportioned to the degree of mental
excitement it occasions, the intensity and complexity of the
mental activity which it arouses! The excitement thus produced
is disagreeable in proportion to our mental impotence in face of
the strange object, — our inability to accommodate ourselves to
it either practically or theoretically, or both. In this lies the
explanation of the discomfort caused by the upsetting or
interruption of fixed habits. Trivial instances are found in the
discomfort which a man is apt to feel in going out without his
accustomed walking-stick, or in having to wear a novel kind
of dress for the first time. As Adam Smith remarks : " A
man grows fond of a snuff-box, of a pen-knife, of a staff,
which he has long made use of . . , If he breaks or loses
them, he is vexed out of all proportion to the value of the
damage." ^ A countryman going up to town for the first time
usually feels amid his pleasures an undercurrent of discomfort
arising from the discomposing novelty of interrupted habits ;
which will be greater in proportion to the limitation of his
previous experience of men and manners. In out-of-the-way

* Theory of Moral Sentiments, part ii., § 3, chap. i.

Pleasure and Pain. 277

parts of the country the sight of a stranger is enough to excite
disgust and the inclination to throw the proverbial half-brick.
An unfamiliar mode of speaking shocks the ears of those who
have been exclusively accustomed either to correct pronuncia-
tion or to their own dialect. The discomposing effect of strange
conditions may often amount to acute anguish and to what is
called the terror of the unknown. A country girl introduced
for the first time into the streets of a large city may feel
actually frightened.

Much more is this the case with the savage suddenly
transferred to the conditions of civilised life. Dr. Livingstone
records a striking instance of this kind which resulted in
madness and suicide.^ A wide field for illustration is found in
superstitious terrors. The fright caused by an apparition is
not so much due to any definite anticipation of positive evil,
as to the utter strangeness of the experience. It lies so
wholly outside the circle of ordinary events, and is so
completely opposed to the conditions of ordinary life, that it
destroys all presence of mind. It stimulates intensely by its
novelty : and at the same time, owing to this very novelty, all
lines of action, theoretical and practical, are obstructed. It is
a typical case of activity at once stimulated and repressed, —
and, therefore, of pain. It is instructive to contrast this over-
whelming terror in the supposed presence of an apparition,
with the predominantly agreeable condition of reading or
listening to a tale of marvel. In face of the actual fact practical
adjustment to it is demanded, and fails. Where this practical
need is not predominant, the free play of imagination, liberated
from the trammels of ordinary experience, is a source of
delight. If we turn to cases of fear which arise in connection
with some positive evil definitely foreseen, the painfulness of
the emotion still lies in impotence or helplessness. The

* Missionary Travels in South Africa, pp. 682-683.

278 Analytic Psychology.

terror-stricken person is incapacitated for action appropriate to
the occasion. In cases of very great terror he cannot even
run away. If he can run away, and has confidence in his
speed, the fear is greatly lessened. Women are more liable to
be frightened than men, simply because they are more helpless.
Danger is courted for the pleasurable excitement it produces,
by those who are full of resource and enterprise, and can
maintain their presence of mind.

The pains of bereavement are easily referable to thwarted
activity. The person taken from us has formed part of our
life. So far as this is the case, his removal means the
repression of our previous modes of thought and action.
While the loss is recent, these preformed mental tendencies
are stimulated by everything which can remind us of the
deceased ; but they are stimulated only to be crushed. The
mollifying effect of time is due to our learning to live without
the lost object of our affections. " In the progress of time,
however, other cares and other hopes, unconnected with the
lost object of regard, must necessarily engage the mind ; and
these, as more recent, arise, of course, more readily by
suggestion ; and thus fill, not the busy hours of action only,
but the very hours of meditation and repose."^ To this it
should be added that, when the old memories revive, they
revive more and more as mere memories, and not as tendencies
to action in relation to present conditions. The pain of
bereavement is always capable of acute renewal whenever we
have a strong prompting mentally to realise the actual presence
of one who may have been long taken from us. This often
happens in waking from a dream in which he has appeared.

The pains and pleasures connected with the idea of self are
obvious cases of repressed activity. They are indeed the
favourite illustrations of such writers as Hobbes and Spinoza,

^ Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. iii., p. 44.

Pleasure and Pain. 279

who take up a position akin to ours. The key to these
feelings lies in the distinction between ourselves as we are, and
ourselves as we would be. Wherever the actual self is felt to
be discordant with the ideal self, the result is pain. Remorse
is a special instance. In it there is a collision between what
we have actually done and what we now desire that we
should have done. Thus in reflection on our past self, the
free course of our present ideal activity is crushed and
repressed by the memory of our actual behaviour. The pains
of wounded pride and wounded vanity involve a further
complication. The discrepancy here is not merely between
the ideal self and the actual, but between the actual self as we
have previously conceived it, and as we now find it. We have
been reposing in our presumed possession of certain powers
or qualities, or of a certain position in the eyes of others,
accordant with our aims and desires ; something then occurs
which collides with this self-conceit, and so interferes with the
free flow of mental activity, in which we picture our own
behaviour and mental attitude, or the behaviour and mental
attitude of others towards us in varying situations, either
represented as actual, or merely imagined. Thus we are, to
use a vulgar phrase, " taken down a peg ". The free ex-
pansion of the idea of self is confined and oppressed, and we
feel mentally stifled. One reason why this kind of pain is so
common lies in the influence of desire on belief We are apt
to assume a closer coincidence between our ideal and actual
self than in fact exists, just because it is painful to think
otherwise. This may take place in two ways : we may either
mould our ideas of what is good and desirable in conformity
with what we find ourselves to be, or we may mould the idea
of self in conformity with what we regard as good and
desirable. The former course leads to pride, the latter to
vanity.

We have so far paid more regard to the conditions of pain

28o Analytic Psychology.

than to those of pleasure ; but it will be seen that each of the
sources of disagreeable feeling to which we have referred,
becomes a source of agreeable feeling, if the repression or
obstruction of activity is absent or is removed. Perhaps our
keenest pleasures are due to relief from previous painful
tension. But it is a great error to suppose that pleasure only
arises in this way, or that, when it does, it is strictly pro-
portionate to the previous pain. Relief from tension is
pleasing, because it means the setting free of positive activity.
The special intensity of the pleasure which arises under such
circumstances is due to the special intensity and complexity
of the mental excitement. This again is referable to the
fundamental principle that the effect of a stimulus is pro-
portioned to the amount of change which it is capable of
producing. The change is obviously greater where it involves
relief from previous tension. But the resulting intensity and
complexity of free activity need not be merely equivalent to the
repressed activity which precedes it. The analogy of a bent
spring is not in point. The initial excitement is only the start-
ing-point of a series of excitations calling into play mental dis-
positions previously inoperative. It may thus diffuse itself over
a wider range, and persist over a longer time, than the painful
repression which is its pre-condition. Thus a struggle with
difficulties which is not too prolonged or too intense, may
enhance the pleasure of success out of all proportion to its own
painfulness. On the other hand, a success too easily purchased
is apt to be unexciting, and therefore insipid. A well-
contested game is enjoyable, and a " walk-over " tedious.

Release from pre-existing tension is by no means the only
source of pleasure. The stimulus which first arouses a mental
tendency, may also simultaneously open the way to its
gratification. When a poor man suddenly finds himself in
possession of a fortune, part of his enjoyment will arise from
the release of previously baffled desire. The poverty which

Pleasure and Pain. 281

had previously hemmed him in, had denied him the satisfaction
of many keenly-felt tendencies. In his changed situation
these have free course, both actual and ideal. On the other
hand, his new position will bring with it the awakening of
many conations, which had previously slumbered, or had
merely emerged in the form of faint wishes. The opportunity
of satisfying these, if it does not create them, at least greatly
intensifies them, and so opens up sources of pleasure
independent of previous pains.

Among the pleasures which are most independent of pain,
are those of idleness. These do not of course arise from
literally doing nothing, but from doing what is easy.^ If all
activity, as such, is pleasant, in so far as it is free from
obstacles, it is not surprising that a favourite mode of
enjoyment consists in avoiding trains of action and trains of
thought which are apt to be brought to a standstill by
obstacles, and can only be continued by painful exertion.
Thus the pleasures of indolence are, in Bentham's sense, the
purest of pleasures, and their purity, while they last, more than
compensates for their lack of intensity, as compared with some
other enjoyments. Their great enemy is tedium, or ennui.
In process of time, the sources of easy gratification become
exhausted, and restlessness sets in. It must however be
admitted, that with certain favourable endowments of mind
and fortune, idleness may continue to be enjoyable through-
out the course of a long life. For this, however, negative
as well as positive qualifications are required. There must be
an absence of strong, intrusive tendencies, which can only be
satisfied by strenuous exertion. We may close this topic
with a quotation from Thomson's Castle of Indolence : —

1 They may also arise from the mere enjoyment of organic or other
sensations, as in the case of the cat purring on the hearth-rug. So far
as this is the case, the present explanation is insufficient. We refer the
reader to what is subsequently said about the pleasures and pams of
sense.

282 Analytic Psychology.

Here freedom reign'd, without the least alloy ;

For why ? there was but one great rule for al ;
To wit, that each should work his own desire,
And eat, drink, study, sleep, as it may fall.
Or melt the time in love, or wake the lyre.
And carol what, unhid, the muses might inspire. ^

There yet remains to be considered the pleasure due to
aesthetic form, and the pain due to its opposite. Esthetic
form is, in Kantian language, the adaptation of an object to
our faculty of knowing. Analysis shows that it consists in
certain arrangements or groupings of the parts of a whole
which facilitate attention. The essential point is, that under
aesthetic conditions of presentation, a complexity and intensity
of mental excitement is possible, without arrest or hindrance,
which would otherwise be impossible, or would involve strain
and struggle. Hence the definition of beauty as "unity in
variety " is not without justification. The value of the unity,
however, consists wholly in its relation to the variety. The
more varied are the elements combined, and the greater the
pleasure they are separately capable of yielding, the greater is
the hedonic effect of that combination which facilitates our
apprehension of them. The best illustrations however for our
purpose are those in which the pleasure-giving efficacy of the
component parts is not prominent. Hence examples which
are not in the special sense artistic are peculiarly instructive.
The solution of a mathematical problem is called beautiful if
the end is reached in a strikingly simple, short, and direct way.
The pleasure we feel in it is contrasted with the disgust felt
at a demonstration involving long and circuitous processes
difficult to follow and to verify. The contrast is at its keenest
when we compare the cumbrous demonstration of a special

1 Canto i., xxxv. The whole poem may be recommended to the
attention of the reader.

Pleasure and Pain. 283

case with the easy and direct demonstration of the general
principle on which it depends. So we call an experiment
beautiful when, by a simple and effective device, it decides a
question which had previously been clouded with perplexity
and confusion. A theory is beautiful, which brings under one
point of view a multitude of facts previously dispersed without
obvious bond of union ; so that, instead of dissipating attention
upon a loose aggregate, we can concentrate it upon a unified
whole. Under the same head comes that charm of style which
arises from mere clearness, compactness, and orderly arrange-
ment. Whatever may be the topic, it is a pleasure to read a
writer whose words fit the thing like a glove. It has been said
that in reading Hobbes we feel as if we were reading by a
good light. The essential use of metaphors is to facilitate
lively and distinct apprehension. The analogy of form
detaches itself amid diversity of matter, and is thus more
easily grasped. At the same time the image contained in the
metaphor is usually easier to fix and detain before conscious-
ness, than the point which it illustrates. Thus the total
mental activity is at the same time heightened and facilitated.
The development of the plot of a novel aims at producing the
maximum of excitement with the minimum of painful tension.
The curiosity of the reader must be kept alive, and at the same
time it must be in perpetual process of being satisfied.
Comparatively disconnected threads of interest, with which the
storj' starts, must be brought together into a unity, so that
each heightens and sustains the others, and so that the final
solution includes them all. Much has been written concerning
the pleasure derived from the ludicrous in its various forms.
Here we have only to consider two points : (i) Why is a
ludicrous connection of ideas exciting? and (2) Why is it
pleasing? The excitement, of course, arises from contrast
and depends on the rule that, the greater is the change
produced in a pre-existing state of mind, the more intense is

284 Analytic Psychology.

the consciousness. But all the forms of the ludicrous involve
an abrupt transition from one topic to another incongruous
with it. This in itself however would not account for the
resulting excitement. If the second direction of attention
simply displaced the first, it would rather be a change of the
pre-existing state of mind, than a change in the pre-existing
state of mind. The incongruity, or disparateness, of the
connected ideas, is not sufficient ; there must also be an
emphatic reference to some point of agreement which prompts
the mental attempt to bring them together into some kind of
unity. In this attempt the real incongruity reveals itself, and
with this the mental excitement arises. The excitement is
pleasurable because it is pure play. It is not a stage in the
pursuit of any end ulterior to itself, and cannot, therefore, be
confronted with obstacles or hindrances. The pleasure of the
ludicrous may be taken as a typical illustration of the general
principle that all mental activity is pleasant in proportion to
its intensity, if there exists no special reason for its being
unpleasant. Such a reason might be sought for in the
unsuccessful attempt to unite the incongruous ideas ; and it
does happen, occasionally, that this phase of the process is
slightly unpleasant. The porter carrying a hare through the
street, who was accosted with the "extraordinary question,
'Prithee, friend, is that thy own hair or a wig?'"^ may have
felt, as Lamb assumes, momentarily perplexed and bewildered.
Lamb imagines his " desponding looks ". But as soon as he
saw the point of the joke, the release of the mental tension
would issue in a pleasure out of all proportion to any previous
disagreeableness. As a matter of theory, we may suppose
that some slight and evanescent tension is always present ; but
in most cases it is so very slight and evanescent as not
appreciably to colour the tone of consciousness. The release

' Essays oj Elia (Ainger's edition), p. 354.

Pleasure and Pain. 285

from it is accompanied by that feeling of superiority to the
situation which, after Hobbes, we may call a " sense of
eminency ".

The effect of aesthetic form in facilitating mental process is
conspicuously illustrated by rhythm and symmetry. Rhythm
has a very wide range of application, from swinging in a
hammock to the march of a hexameter. It enables the mind to
anticipate a coming stimulus. Where recurrence is regular,
we are prepared for it. On the other hand, an irregularity
which defies mental forecast, is perplexing and painful.
Where rhythm exists, the oncoming of a stimulus is met
beforehand by a pre-excitement in conformity with it, so that
when it arrives, the effect is both greater and easier. Con-
currence in rhythm between two distinct but simultaneous
processes, is especially exciting and agreeable. Dancing to
music is an example in point. Another is the correspondence
of sound and sense in poetry ; the rhythm of the verse
corresponds with the movement of the mind in following the
train of ideas. Symmetry is the analogue, in simultaneous
combinations, of rhythm in successive combinations. In a
symmetrical arrangement, the mind is prepared in advance by
the apprehension of the part for the apprehension of the whole,
and vice versd ; and by the apprehension of one part for the
apprehension of other parts. The most pleasing modes of
dividing a line are either bisection or a division in which the
ratio of the whole to the larger part is the same as that of the
larger part to the smaller. In the latter case the appre-
hension of one ratio assists the apprehension of the others
inasmuch as the relation remains the same though the related
magnitudes differ. As regards both symmetry and rhythm,
we must remember that, after all, they are merely forms, and
that their pleasure-giving efficacy depends on their filling-in.
The greater the variety of matter, the greater is the effect of
unity of form. Much has been written concerning the

286 Analytic Psychology.

pleasures derived from musical sounds and their combination.
I am deterred from treating this topic because of my own
ignorance and incapacity in all that regards music. It is
sufficient to say that the views of experts seem to harmonise
with our general account of aesthetic pains and pleasures.
There is, however, one point on which I can speak from
personal experience, — the irritation due to combinations of
sounds which at once attract and disappoint attention.
Charles Lamb has vividly described this kind of annoyance.
" I am constitutionally susceptible of noises. A carpenter's
hammer, in a warm summer noon, will fret me into more than
midsummer madness. But those unconnected, unset sounds,
are nothing to the measured malice of music. The ear is
passive to those single strokes ; willingly enduring stripes
while it hath no task to con. To music it cannot be passive.
It will strive — mine at least will — spite of its inaptitude, to
thrid the maze ; like an unskilled eye painfully poring upon
hieroglyphics."^

This long array of examples has probably tried the reader's
patience. It would be possible to fill a volume with the same
sort of thing, without exhausting the material. Our purpose
is served if we have made clear the general applicability of
this kind of analysis wherever the conditions of pleasure and
pain can be expressed in psychological terms. If this is
doubted or denied, a negative instance ought to be adduced,
and we feel confident that no such instance will be found.
The difficulty of the psychological explanation arises precisely
where from the nature of the case it must arise. It arises
where the conditions of pleasure-pain can only be expressed
in terms of physiology ; and where physiology fails to tell us
exactly what it is that takes place,

* O/, cit., p. 54.

Pleasure and Pain. 287

4. Physiological Application.

What in its psychical aspect we call the direction of mental
activity towards an end, is, on the physiological side, the
tendency of disturbed neural arrangements to equilibrium.
By equilibrium is meant a stationary condition, in which
further alteration will not take place unless it is externally
initiated. We have made use of this conception, and illustrated
it from the psychical side, in discussing attention and
apperception. After Avenarius, we have called the process
intervening between the initial disturbance and restored
stability, the vital series. Our present thesis, for which the
reader has also been in some measure prepared, is that
pleasure and pain depend respectively on the uninterrupted or
interrupted course of the vital series. In so far as the neural
disturbance simply serves to initiate and support the process
of recovery in modes predetermined by the nervous organisa-
tion, there is concomitant pleasure. On the other hand, any
kind of hitch or hindrance in this process is unpleasant. This
physiological formula is primarily based on the evidence
supplied by those pleasant and painful processes which are
open to psychological analysis. It is now to be applied to those
pleasures and pains which depend on conditions that can only
be fully defined in physiological terms. The assumption is,
that where psychological analysis fails, there is a fundamental
analogy in the neural process concerned. In baffled desire the
process of return to nervous equilibrium is in some way
thwarted. In this case the neural process has a psychical
counterpart which can be defined with reference to its
commencement and to the end which it seeks. In the pain
of toothache, such psychological definition of the thwarted
conation is not possible ; but it remains permissible and even
necessary to assume a failure to recover nervous equilibrium,
owing to positive or negative conditions. Under this formula

288 Analytic Psychology.

we include whatever influence nutritive relations may possess
in facilitating or impeding neural function. We do not
however agree with those who find the whole or the main
explanation of sense-pleasure and pain in the relation of wear
and repair. Special questions bearing on this point will be
discussed in their place.

It will be objected that we have failed to account for the
existence of neutral modifications of consciousness. In con-
sidering this question, it is important to distinguish between
the total consciousness at any moment, and its component
parts. We simply deny that, in the waking state, our mental
attitude is ever wholly without pleasant or painful tones. We
are always being more or less satisfied, or dissatisfied, or both.
The examples of indifferent modifications of consciousness
usually refer to the partial constituents of a complex state.
It is said that the ordinary sensations of sight and touch have
a purely cognitive function, without admixture of pleasantness
or unpleasantness. We admit that this is virtually true. The
reason is to be found in the operation of habit. When the
conditions of a neural reaction are frequently repeated in a
uniform way, the form of reaction itself becomes, so to speak,
stereotyped. The neural arrangement becomes so pre-
conformed to its appropriate stimulus that the amount of
disturbance it undergoes is small, and it recovers itself in a
fixed and unvarying manner, by means of a vital series v/hich
is short and simple, and disconnected from the main stream of
psycho-physical process. In proportion as it becomes thus
automatic, it loses prominence in consciousness. But intensity
of pleasure or pain depends on the intensity and complexity
of the pleasant or painful excitation. Hence the effect of
habit is to diminish to what is virtually a vanishing point the
pleasantness or painfulness of habitual impressions, considered
in their own intrinsic nature, and apart from their relations to
other components of a complex whole. Though in theory we

Pleasure and Pain. 289

may still ascribe to them agreeable or disagreeable tone, yet
this is for the most part so small in relation to the total
consciousness that it is virtually negligible. They can only
become markedly pleasing or painful when they occur with
unusual intensity, or after an unusually long intermission, or
otherwise under comparatively novel conditions.

There is another mode of statement of the conditions of
pleasure-pain, which, though it is probably not so general, may
help to make our position clear. We may start from the
conception of a psycho-physical disposition. Through in-
herited constitution, or through habitual exercise, certain fixed
neural arrangements come into being, specifically prepared for
certain kinds of process. Certain neural elements are so co-
ordinated that they normally act together in a fixed order,
manner, and degree. Now, whatever disorganises the working
of such neural systems, whether it be the absence of co-
operative conditions in the environment, or the presence of
disturbing conditions, or the interference of simultaneous
nervous processes, or the inaction of part of the elements
concerned, or the undue intensity of their action, or its undue
continuance, or its taking place at the wrong time, — however
it comes about, the derangement of systematic co-operation is
painful in proportion to the intensity and complexity of the
total excitement. Of course it is not meant that pleasure lies
in the identical repetition of previous process. Such repetition
is rather a condition of indifference. The specific working of
a nervous arrangement does not exclude constructive re-
adaptation to varying conditions, or, as we have called it,
relative suggestion. To have recourse to the language of
Mr. Cyples, " the general frame " of the neural diagram " is
repeated in analogues," ^ with special variations due to varying
conditions.

^ The Ptocess of Human Experience, p. 168.
VOL. II. 19

290 Analytic Psychology.

Ill what follows we shall examine separately the feeling-tone
of muscular exercise and repose, of organic cravings and their
satisfaction, of those cutaneous and other sensations, which, by
a peculiar limitation of the word, are called distinctively /d:/«i',
and of the ordinary sensations of the special senses.

^ S. Muscular Action.

According to a well-known theory of Dr. Bain, " movements
arise without the stimulation of sensible objects, through some
energy of the nerve centres themselves, or some stimulus
purely internal".^ The saving clause here, which refers to
"some stimulus purely internal," destroys the distinctive
significance of the theory. But it is clear from Dr. Bain's
general exposition, that he intends to maintain the possibility
of a nervous discharge to the muscles which is determined
purely by nutritive conditions. When the building up of
tissue has reached a certain point, it, so to speak, breaks down
of itself without external prompting. Full feeding takes the
place of stimulation from without. " As the battery of the
torpedo becomes charged by the mere course of nutrition, and
requires to be periodically relieved by being poured upon some
object or other, so we may suppose that the jaws of the tiger,
the fangs of the serpent, the spinning apparatus of the spider
require at intervals to have some objects to spend themselves
upon."2 Now if this process really takes place, it is evident
that we have in it a typical example of the conditions of
pleasant feeling. The initial disturbance of neural equilibrium
arises entirely from the building up of tissue ; and the ensuing
excitation is, ceteris paribus, a simple and direct recovery of
relative stability. The vital series proceeds without hitch or
hindrance. Dr. Bain's thesis has been severely criticised : it

1 Mental and Moral Science, p. i.u
'Ibid., p. 17.

Pleasure and Pain. 291

seems impossible to verify it in its pure form in any given
instance, for there is no case in which external disturbance is
wholly excluded. But for our purpose it is sufficient to
emphasise the undeniable fact that a high state of nutrition is
accompanied by a correspondingly high degree of excitability ;
so that, as Dr. Bain observes, the sensory stimulus may be of
the feeblest kind, while the motor discharge may be of quite
disproportionate intensity. Hence, both muscular and other
activities are especially pleasant when we are fresh and in
good health.

Owing to the operation of habit, most ordinary movements
are virtually neutral as regards pleasure and pain ; but even
these may assume a slightly pleasing character when they are
renewed after food and repose. The pleasure, however, soon
sinks into indifference. Part of the cause is here undoubtedly
the instability due to previous building up of tissue ; but it
may be questioned whether this would in itself be sufficient,
apart from the relative novelty of the new start after inter-
mission. Mr. Rutgers Marshall would explain such instances
by the assumption that "all consumption of surplus-stored
energy is pleasant". To this it may be objected that the
pleasure fades away long before we can suppose the ex-
haustion of the surplus. In a long day's work, the habitual
muscular action may be indifferent for much the larger
portion of the time spent in it, the initial stage of pleasure
being very brief in comparison. We should rather expect, on
Mr. Marshall's view, a period of pleasure passing rapidly
through a transition point of indifference to one of pain, as we
must suppose that the surplus is being used up during the
whole period of exertion. In any case, the nutritive conditions
are a positive source of marked pleasure only when the
building up of tissue has reached a point where it tends to
break down of itself upon a comparatively slight stimulus.

Mr. Marshall attempts to bring under the same point of

292 Analytic Psychology.

view the pleasure attending renewal of action after unusually
prolonged intermission. Dr. Bain objects that in such
instances the organs concerned have often actually fallen off
in condition. "When General Wolseley disembarked in
Egypt, with an expeditionary force, he found his operations
retarded by the inability of the horses to gallop."^ Mr. Mar-
shall's rejoinder is not satisfactory. He begins by alleging
that the inefficiency is a result of deficient co-ordination of the
motor processes following on intermitted practice, and he
affirms that the pleasure connected with renewed action is due
to nourishment through rest. Obviously, this does not
account for the comparatively rapid exhaustion which takes
place under such circumstances. Hence Mr. Marshall has
recourse to a supplementary hypothesis. He thinks that the
"quick loss of ability" is due to a disturbance of the old
nutritive habits. This is special pleading. So far as our
knowledge goes, the general rule as to the blood-supply is that
it streams to the part which needs it at the moment. It is
possible that, through disuse, vaso-motor arrangements may
be altered so as to require readjustment when action is
renewed. But, on this assumption, we should expect to find
the inconvenience most prominent at the outset of activity.
In point of fact, the loss of ability occurs just when time for
the necessary re-arrangement has already elapsed. The
simple explanation of the pleasure felt after unusually pro-
longed intermission of activity, lies in the annulling of the
effect of habit. Custom brings with it such a pre-conformity
between neural pre-arrangements and the condition which
stimulation tends to produce in them, that when they are
excited, the disturbance is small, definitely limited in range,
and rapidly compensated. Prolonged disuse impairs this
accommodation of organ to stimulus, so that the excitement

^ Mind, N.S., vol. ii., p. 184.

Pleasure and Pain. 293

on renewal of action is increased. As Dr. Bain observes :
" An organ is at its very best, in point of preparation for
activity, by being exercised up to the proper limits, without
the loss of a single day, as in the training of pedestrians,
mountain-climbers, boxers, or athletes "} But the habitual
repetition which keeps up the condition of the organs
exercised, diminishes the pleasure.

Where there is a felt tendency to action, and outlet is denied
to it, pain ensues. This is a typical pain of restriction, and falls
under our formula of itself Nervous equilibrium is widely
disturbed ; and at the same time the course of the vital series
by which it would otherwise be recovered, is barred. Perhaps
it would be unnecessary to add more on this point, were it not
that Mr. Marshall has given another explanation. According
to him, " painful restriction of the normal activity in an organ
does not imply action, but rather non-action, in the organ
restricted, nor does it imply inefficiency in the organ restricted".^
Mr, Marshall has evidently before his mind the restriction of
muscular movement ; and by the restricted organ he must
mean the inactive muscles. We admit that the pain of
restriction does not arise from these, except in so far as
stimulus received from them may prompt to motor discharge.
The immediate source of uneasiness lies in the repression of
the out-going current. There is a pent-up stream of activity
which is painful, not because it does not exist, but because it
fails to find vent. Mr. Marshall urges that this and other
pains of restriction are widely diffused instead of being
definitely localised. This is far too sweeping a statement
when it is extended to pains of restriction in general, so as to
include all thwarting of desire or anticipation. It is broadly
true, however, as regards motor activity. But this constitutes

^Mind, N.S., vol. ii., p. 184.

^ Pain, Pleasure and ^Esthetics, p. 195.

294 Analytic Psychology.

no objection to our view ; if the pain of restriction is diffused,
the pleasure of exercise and of release from restriction is
equally so. The more muscles are brought into play, the
better. The boy released from school feels a wide-spread
delight in free movement corresponding to the diffused
uneasiness of his previous confinement. Besides this, it must
be noted that every pain of restriction is apt to carry in its
train general discomfort and impatience, because it disturbs
the working of the nervous mechanism as a whole. If only by
distracting attention, it bars the way to other activities, and
thus becomes a general centre of obstruction. Mr. Marshall's
own account of the matter is as follow^s. It may well be taken
as a test case for his theory, and we shall therefore make a full
quotation. "What happens when a normal activity is
obstructed as the result of contradictory forces or failure of
stimuli, but without radical change of nutritive supply ? All
the connected organs will, it would seem, take up into
potential form all the energy they are able to store. But
after that? If the blood-currents still persist without use of
the material which they carry with them for the organ, they
will fail to move on in their course with normal ease ; the
nutritive channels will become gorged, their muscular coatings
and their proper nerves forced to do abnormal work under
conditions of excess and beyond the limits of storage. More-
over, the effect will not by any means be limited to the
nutritive system. The whole make-up of the organism will
react to open up the obstructed path ; the directly disabled
elements calling for aid in the shape of nerve force, and those
thus called upon looking to still others for help ; until, in
some cases, the full width of the system is aroused to break
down the obstruction."^ The first question which here arises
is, why should the nutritive channels become gorged ? Where

^ Pain, Pleasure and Esthetics, p. 213

Pleasure and Pain. 295

the organ is inactive, according to general principles the
blood-supply will be smaller, and in any case, it does not seem
clear how the normal flow of circulation comes to be blocked
in its onward course. This is much more likely to happen, if
at all, when the organ is active, so that the blood becomes
charged with waste products. The whole explanation looks
like a mere figment invented for the occasion. Again, if the
muscular coatings of the vessels and their proper nerves are
forced to do excessive work, it is not clear why this should be
an immediate occasion of pain. The vaso-motor mechanism
is supplied by the sympathetic system, which is not, as a rule,
directly concerned in conscious process. What is said about
the reaction of the whole organism is very vague ; but, so fai
as I can understand it, it seems to fit in even better with my
account of the matter than with Mr. Marshall's. The
physiological hypotheses propounded by him must be left to
the final judgment of the physiologist, by whom they would, I
am inclined to think, be promptly rejected. At any rate, they
do not appear to be in any way called for by the psychological
facts.

Muscular exertion, after fatigue has set in, is unpleasant,
and often extremely painful. In general, two conditions
appear to be here involved. In the first place, waste of tissue
has outrun repair ; in the second, the accumulated products of
waste probably exercise an influence directly unfavourable to
the activity of the exhausted organ. In both ways, neural
process may be retarded and disorganised. At the very
moment that fatigue of the muscle itself demands increased
exertion, in order to produce an equal elTect, the fatigue of the
nervous tissue obstructs and retards its action. The dis-
organisation which accompanies action under conditions of
fatigue contributes largely to the painfulness of the total state.
When we are tired we are also "shaky". On first beginning
to hold out a moderate weight at arm's length, the experience

296 Analytic Psychology.

is not unpleasant ; at the same time the muscular action is
balanced and steady. The motor co-ordinations which it
involves take place in a normal way, as provided for in a
specific manner by the acquired habits and constitution of the
nervous system. When fatigue sets in, muscular exertion
becomes disorderly ; the arm shakes, and gives convulsive
jerks. The inco-ordination continues after the exertion has
ceased ; and it extends not only to the arm itself, but to the
muscular system generally. The balance of the system cannot
be recovered until the conditions of fatigue have passed away ;
and until this happens, all muscular action, above a certain low
limit of exertion, is painful. Sometimes the painful state due
to inco-ordination continues even after complete cessation of
activity. This is apt to happen when over-exertion has been
extreme, or when, owing to weakness or ill-health, we are not
in a fit state for it.

As a rule, however, repose after exertion which has reached
or passed the limits of fatigue, is agreeable, because the
cessation of effort opens the way for the recovery of nervous
equilibrium. In repose, repair of tissue can undo the effects
of previous waste. We must, however, avoid the temptation
to treat this as being of itself an immediate concomitant ot
agreeable feeling. Physiologists are inclined to deny that the
mere process of nutrition, as such, has an immediate correlate
in consciousness at all. Mr. Marshall would meet this
difficulty by his theory that pleasures of rest are due to the
stimulation of organs which have not taken part in the previous
action, and are therefore fresh. Unfortunately for this view
fatigue is as general and has as much right to be called a
systemic state as repose. When we are thoroughly tired, we are
indisposed for any kind of exertion. We do not tire ourselves
out in certain directions, and leave ourselves fresh in others.
After a long day's walking we are not merely disinclined for
further walking, we are also disinclined for gymnastic

Pleasure and Pain. 297

exercises, or serious study. We prefer to say, not that the
pleasure is due to the excitement of fresh brain-tracts, but that
it is due to stimulations so slight and unexacting that they
do not interfere with the general process of recuperation.
But even in this modified form, Mr. Marshall's view does not
cover the whole of the case. In discussing fatigue, we saw
that over-exertion is apt to leave a general neural disturbance
behind it. The distinctive source of the pleasure of repose
appears to lie in the process by which this disturbed
equilibrium of the nervous system is recovered, under favour-
able nutritive conditions. When fatigue has been extreme,
the process of recovery is often delayed either because it
awaits the recovery of favourable nutritive relations, or for
some other reason. It seems a sufficiently probable supposi-
tion, that when nervous co-ordination has been disorganised
beyond a certain point, it will for that very reason readjust
itself with difficulty. The vagueness of this statement is
unhappily forced on us by ignorance of the actual details of
the physiological process. In any case, the fact is indis-
putable, that there is such a thing as being over-tired, and that
when this occurs, cessation of muscular action is not repose.
Even when sleep ensues, it is apt to be attended by troubled
dreams, in which we feel an uneasy continuance of previous
effort. Such dreams, of course, are not confined to the case of
muscular over-work ; the over-tasked student or man of
business often engages in sleep in a futile struggle with the
difficulties of waking life. It should be noted that this after-
effect of over-exertion is not merely systemic. Along with
general uneasiness there is also a definitely localised uneasiness.
This is so for the most part in primary as well as in what we
may call secondary fatigue. The pleasures of repose corre-
spond, both in their general diffusion and in their specific
localisation, to the pains of fatigue. After holding out a
weight with the arm till the exertion has become painful, the

298 Analytic Psychology.

relief which follows discontinuance of the action is both
general and special. We have a conspicuous pleasure which
we refer directly to the cessation of muscular exertion in the
arm ; and we have also a vaguely localised satisfaction in
resting the whole body, and in sitting or lying down. Where
localisation becomes blurred, it will be found that the fatigue
itself has been proportionately diffused. It often happens that
the localised relief is most marked in the commencement of
repose ; and it afterwards becomes inconspicuous or ceases to
be distinguishable from the general sense of ease. Many
other details require to be analysed and explained ; but it is
clear that Mr. Marshall's sweeping denial of localisation
cannot be maintained.

We have seen that the pain of fatigue is in part connected
with motor inco-ordination. Such disorganisation of motor
function is always disagreeable from whatever source it may
arise. When the normal course of movement is interfered
with by convulsive jerks, by tremor, or by innervations of
muscles not concerned in the special activity, the process itself
is unpleasant quite apart from its failure to attain an ulterior
end. The inco-ordination may be due to the unfamiliar
nature of the adaptation required, or to the presence of un-
foreseen conditions falsifying anticipation. The beginner at
billiards, straining all his powers to make a particular
stroke, may find that his hand disobeys him and moves
convulsively. The failure to find resistance where it was
expected, as in lifting an empty water-jug supposed to be full,
disorders the working of the motor apparatus in a highly
disagreeable way. The execution of delicate and complex
movements with facility and precision yields a correspond-
ing pleasure when the deadening effect of habit does not
intervene.

Pleasure and Pain. 299

% 6. Organic Cravings.

Organic craving arises when an organ is in whatever way
excited to its specific mode of activity in the absence of
environing conditions required for the fulfilment of the
appropriate action. Its most common occasion is the arrest of
regularly recurrent function. The craving of hunger normally
arises when on the recurrence of the usual time for eating, food
is den' .1. The pain of such an experience ranges itself
without difficulty under our formula. The stomach is
stimulated to act in accordance with its special function and
an essential condition of its activity is wanting. There is a
disturbance of neural equilibrium with arrest of the correspond-
ing vital series.

Mr. Marshall is logically bound by his theory of the pains
of obstruction to regard the pain of hunger as due to over-
feeding. The stomach being the organ obstructed must
according to him be inactive, and the disagreeable conscious-
ness must be due to the failure of the inactive organ to take
up into its substance the nutrition with which it is supplied,
and to the consequent clogging of the nutritive channels.
Critical comment on this appears superfluous. Hunger proper
is a sensation definitely localised in the alimentary canal and
not an experience vaguely diffused over the whole organism
with the exception of the stomach. The stomach is not
inactive in hunger. It is uncomfortably active though it
cannot gain its point. The paradox of tracing the pain of
hunger proper to over-feeding may no doubt be explained
away. But it becomes real in the case of inanition or faintness
due to the failure of the customary supply of nutriment to the
organism in general, including the nervous system.

It is superfluous to deal separately with other organic
cravings such as those for fresh air, for drink, for tobacco and
opium, and for sexual pleasure. In all these cases excitation

300 Analytic Psychology,

exists together with some kind of interruption or obstruction
of the vital series which would lead to cessation of activity
through specific processes predetermined by the constitution
of the nervous system.

§ 7. Pain-Sensations.

The word pain, besides its general application to cover all
displeasure or dissatisfaction, has also a peculiarly restricted
sense. It is distinctively applied to a certain class of sensations
arising from disease or violent disintegration of tissue. When
these are produced by stimulations of the skin, they are clearly
distinguishable from ordinary cutaneous sensations, such as
those of pressure and temperature. Extreme heat and
extreme cold produce the same painful experience, which is
very different from the sensations either of heat or of cold in
their disagreeable phases. Under the influence of anaesthetics
and in cases of hysteria and of locomotor ataxia, the
sensibility to pain-sensations may disappear while other
dermal sensibility persists. It has bean shown experimentally
that an interval of time separates pain-sensations from those
of pressure or temperature when both are produced by the
same stimulus. The pain-sensations occur later. Pain-
sensations have a sensory quality distinct from their mere
disagreeableness. It is possible to compare them in other
respects besides intensity. Goldscheider following Erb enu-
merates the following modes of difference and agreement :
{a) The admixture of other sensory qualities ; as in burning
pains, etc. {b) Localisation and diffusion ; as in pricking
pains, etc. {c) The temporal sequence and rhythmic alterna-
tion of the different phases of the experience ; as in throbbing
pains, etc. {a) may be dismissed as of secondary importance.
The essential points of difference and agreement are to be
found in the temporal and local distribution of the constituents
of the complex experience.

Pleasure and Pain. 301

Pain-sensations form a class by themselves as truly as
do sensations of pressure or of smell. It is possible that they
are mediated by a distinct set of nerves. At any rate there
appears to be no psychological objection to such an hypothesis.
The problem belongs properly to physiology.

On the main question why these experiences are disagree-
able we must in absence of detailed knowledge express
ourselves vaguely. The violent and abnormal character of
the stimulus deranges the normal working of the nervous
mechanism — possibly in some such way as that in which
violent discharge to a muscle produces cramp. There seems
to be no sufficient reason for making inadequacy of nutritive
supply the sole principle of explanation. All that we can say
is that the destructive action of the stimulus is of a kind or
degree or both which precludes or hinders a reconstruction in
accordance with the constitution of the nervous system. Thus
the general flow of mental activity is impeded, and sooner or
later the vitality of the organism as a whole is lowered.

§ 8. Sensations of the Special Senses.

Sensations of sound, light, flavour, odour, temperature and
pressure all become disagreeable when they are intensified
beyond a certain point. At least this is the general rule ;
possibly there are exceptions ; there are some who do not
appear to find any degree of sweetness disagreeable. The
converse proposition, that all these sensations are agreeable
when they are not too intense, has also been maintained. It
may be true ; but it is difficult to verify in some cases.
Certain flavours and odours are unpleasant even when they
are very faint. Mr. Marshall and others have referred the dis-
agreeable effect of over-intensification to nutritive relations
alone. But on this view it is difficult to explain why one
flavour, for example, should be disagreeable even at a low

302 Analytic Psychology,

degree of intensity, while another continues to give pleasure
even at a very high degree. There is no reason in the nature
of the case why the quality of the stimulation should not count
as well as the quantity. Though the sensation may appear
simple to introspection, the neural process is complex and
involves a vital series which may be obstructed either through
unfavourable nutritive relations or otherwise. As regards
actual details we are in a state of almost complete ignorance.
It appears however from the researches of Dr. Fere that
pleasant sensations of this kind have an immediate " dynamo-
genie " effect. They increase the vigour of the nervous system
generally so that in the case of hysterical patients they
produce a marked increase of muscular power as measured by
the dynamometer. Disagreeable sensations operate in the
reverse way.

A pleasant sensation when ilniformly continued beyond a
certain time subsides into indifference, and if we continue to
attend to it, it becomes disagreeable. In general, the dis-
agreeableness seems to be mainly of the nature of tedium in so
far as it is not due to muscular fatigue arising from continuance
of the movements of fixation. So long as the stimulus is
pleasing, its removal will give rise to the pain of unsatisfied
conation, unless attention is diverted into other channels.
Continuance of stimulus until indifference is reached is a
necessary condition of the completion of the vital series.

When impressional experience which has been pleasing is
ideally revived, after satiety has passed away, a demand
for renewed stimulation arises. Hence every pleasure of sense
may subsequently give rise to craving or desire.

In conclusion we may refer to the question whether dis-
agreeable feeling may arise in consequence of under- as well as
of over-stimulation. Tickling is often regarded as a case in
point. It is urged on the other side that a light touch may
really constitute a strong stimulus, and also that accompanying

Pleasure and Pain 303

spasmodic movements ought to be taken into account. We
should, I think, distinguish two conditions under which
tickHng is unpleasant. It is highly unpleasant when it is
carried to an extreme so as to produce violent motor reaction.
But it is also very unpleasant when it arises from an extremely
slight and brief contact which is not repeated in the same
place at short intervals. The discomfort then seems to arise
from an unsatisfied craving for further stimulation which
requires to be appeased by rubbing, scratching, or renewed
contact. The extreme pleasure some persons feel in having
their face or the palm of their hand tickled, seems to consist
in the satisfaction of a kind of cutaneous craving aroused by
previous contact and gratified by more or less regular repetition
of the stimulus. Enjoyment of this kind seems capable of
being almost indefinitely protracted. At any rate the operator
becomes bored much sooner than the patient

§ 9. The Psychological Theory of Sense-
Pleasure AND Pain.

It must be admitted that our psychological theory of
pleasure and pain is not so easily applicable to the pleasures
and pains of sense as to those which involve ideal activity.
It may even be said that it breaks down at this point, and
that we have merely masked the failure by substituting physi-
ology for psychology. The truth is, that any purely psycho-
logical theory must, from the nature of the case, to a certain
extent break down when it comes to deal with sense-pleasures
and pains, because it cannot here find sufficiently definite data
for its verification. At the higher levels of mental life the
psychical conditions of pleasure-pain are definitely ascertain-
able. They are referable to processes which we can describe
by assigning their several phases and their co-operative factors

304 Analytic Psychology.

in psychological terms. This holds good only to a limited
extent in the case of sense-pleasures. The disagreeableness
of a bitter taste is connected with the peculiar quality of the
bitter sensation. Definite psychological explanation must de-
pend on definite psychological analysis of the sensory process
concerned. But no such analysis is possible. The felt bitter-
ness is, for introspection, something simple and uniform, in
which we cannot discern co-operating factors and distinct
phases.

What, then, is the psychologist to do? He must, in the
first place, show that the psychological data which are forth-
coming support his theory or at least harmonise with it,
although they may not be sufficient to establish it. There are
certain broad facts to which he can point. Thus, ceteris
paribus, a pleasant sensory process tends to maintain itself
until satiety is reached, and, ceteris paribus, it then tends to
cease. In smoking a cigar, I go on puffing it so long as enjoy-
ment lasts ; where enjoyment ceases, I tend to leave off".
Similarly, the cat on the hearth-rug maintains its comfortable
position and its curious action of purring so long as it con-
tinues to be gratified by doing so. It shifts its position when
the pleasure palls. This feature of sense-pleasure supports
the view that pleasure lies in the satisfaction of a conation.
While the pleasure lasts, the conation is being satisfied. It is
working itself out. When satiety is reached, it has been
satisfied. It has worked itself out, and reached its termina-
tion. Until satiety is reached, there is always a tendency for
the process to go on. Again, if the pleasing sensory process
is discontinued or obstructed before satiety is reached, the ex-
perienced tendency becomes an experienced tension. If my
cigar goes out, or if I let it fall while I am in the full current
of enjoyment, an unsatisfied craving results. If one gently
tries to push the comfortable cat off" its hearth-rug, or to alter
the attitude which it has been actively maintaining, one may,

Pleasure and Pain.

305

so to speak, feel with the fingers the resistance of the
obstructed conation. This, again, fully harmonises with the
psychological theory which we advocate. Equally favourable
to it is the fact that any pleasing experience may give rise to
an unsatisfied conation, when its conditions are only partially
repeated ; as when the corresponding idea is called up, and
the external stimulus withheld. Further, the movements and
the attitudes (which may here be regarded as a kind of move-
ment), expressive of sense-pleasure and pain respectively,
present a material analogue of the psychical condition. In
pleasure, movement is free and harmonious. In pain, co-
ordination fails, and the corresponding movements are
irregular, jerky, and mutually conflicting ; so that the external
process, like the internal, is at war with itself

These comparatively vague characteristics of sense-pleasures
and pains furnish the sole psychological clues to their explana-
tion. The psychologist may content himself with referring to
them without entering further into the question. He may
fairly say that the explanation demanded by the more
abundant and definite data of the higher processes, presumably
applies also to the lower; and that what we know of the lower at
least harmonises with it. But the correlation of physiological
and psychological process suggests, at this point, a most in-
teresting problem. Where definite psychological formulation
fails, definite physiological formulation may still be possible ;
and the question which naturally arises in his mind is, whether
his general psychological explanation can be so translated
into definite physiological terms as to give a more or less
definite physiological explanation of the hedonic aspect of
sensations. And, in particular, it is incumbent upon him to
compare the theory thus suggested to his mind by psychical
facts, with any current physiological theory which may appear
not so well to fit these facts. Final adjudication on his

suggestions must be left to the physiologist ; but it is quite
VOL. II. 20

306 Analytic Psychology.

legitimate for him to indicate the direction in which psy-
chology points. It is even possible that the physiologist may
find such a treatment of the subject suggestive. If he, in
his own sphere, can independently establish a physiological
explanation analogous to the psychological theory, that theory
may be regarded as finally proved.

THE END

INDEX.

[The thicker numbers refer to Vol. //.]

A.

Abnormal individuals, cases of, ii.

Action, automatic and volitional, and attention,
192 ff.

Activity, ordinary use of the word, 145 ; relation
of to will, 173 ; application of the word to
mental life, 179; relation of, to belief, 23i,
239, 261.

Activity, mental ; concept, of, bk. ii., ch. i. ;
contrast of, with mental passivity, 147, i6o;
correspondence of, to physical momentum,
148, 159, 177; relation of, to organic, 156;
obstructions to, 157 ; as an immediate ex-
perience, 160 ; relation of, to the active pro-
cess, 163 ; relation of, to cephalic move-
ments, 164 ; experience of effects of, 1C6 ;
objections to theory of, refuted, 168 ; and
reverie, 169; and dreams, 170; relation of,
to modes of anoetic sentience, 171.

Adaptiveness, relation of, to organic mental
activity, 157.

Aesthetic contemplation, relation of, to judg-
ment, 106.

Aesthetic emotion, relation of, to relative sug-
gestion, 76.

Aesthetic end of imaginative activity, 261.

Aesthetic form, pleasure due to, 282.

" Algedonic " and " Algedonics," 122.

Allegorv, illustrations of relative suggestion
frorn, 79.

Analysis, of presentations, bk. i., ch. ii. ; of
actual experience, 58 ; of psychical disposi-
tion, 6i ; of ideas and conceptions, 62.

Analytic method of psychology, 36 ; relation of,
to genetic method, 20 (note).

Angelo, Michael, definition of genius, 162.

Anger, differentiation arvd transformation of, 96.

Animistic view of nature, 177.

Anoetic sentience, how far passive, 171.

Aisthropology, importance of, to science of
mind, 10.

Aphasia, 11 ; progress of doctrine of, 33.

Aphasic patients, 187.

Apperception, bk. ii., ch. viii. ; relation of, to
noetic synthesis, 40 ; explanation of the
term, 110 ; relation of, to the attention pro-
cess, 112; Herbartian treatment of, 111,
128 ; relation of, to assimilation, 118 ;
teleologically considered, 121 ; and connec-
tive cerebral arrangements, 122 ; relation of,
to fixation, 127 ; relation of, to belief, 2S2.

Apperception, destructive, 144.

Apperception, negative, 140; as a step towards
positive, 142.

Apperceptive activity, extrinsic circumstances
favouring, 132 ; intriasic circumstances Cav-
ouring, 139.

Apperceptive systems, serial evolution of, 124;
co-operation and competition of, 128; con-
ditions determining the strength of, 132 ;
when non-existent, cannot be operative, 137 ;
conflict of, 143 ; as e.xcited by names and
sense-impressions, 197.

Apprehension of form, bk. i.,ch. iii. ; of" things,"
21 ; of the whole without the parts, 22.

Apprehension, implicit, bk. i., ch. iv. ; and the
use of words, 78 ; as involving imagery, 83 ;
relation of, to schematic, 95 ; and noetic
syntheses, 3.

Apprehension, schematic, 96.

Apprehension, simple, distinguished from judg-
ing, bk. i., ch. V. ; relativity of the distinction
between, and judo;ing, iii.

Aristotle's division of the mental functions, 38.

Art, how far playful, 268.

Assimilation, relation of, to apperception, 118 ;
as involving attention, 119.

Association by contiguity, 269; supplanting o(
thought-control by, 3 ; general formula for,
52 ; as a cause of belief, 248.

Association, impressional, possibility of, 11 ; in
cases of hypermnesia, 12 ; in ordinary per-
ception, 26.

Associationists, fundamental fallacy of the, 47.

Associations, indissoluble, 249.

Assurance, degrees of, 233.

Attention, relation of, to conation, 122 ; modes
of constraining, 136 ; process of, bk. ii., chs.
ii. and iii. ; and inattention, 180; prospective
attitude of, 184; relation of, to apperception,
186; teleological aspect of, 189, 199, 265;
relation of, to physical processes, 192 ; rela-
tion of, to the vital series, 200; fixation and
remission of, 203 ; fixation of, to perceived
objects, 204 ; relation of, to sensory accom-
modation, 205 ; fixation of, on mental images,
212 ; fixation of, to general topics, 218 ; rela-
tion of, to vaso-motor adjustments, aig;
change in direction of, 221 ; relation of, to
interest, 224 ; distraction of, through conflict
of interests, 226 ; relation of, to pleasures
and pains of sense, 227 ; contrast of plea-
santly and painfully toned, 229; painfully
toned, and aversion, 239; voluntary and
spontaneous, 241 ; voluntary, and movements
of fixation, 243 ; effects of, 244.

Attention-process, the, systematic unity of, 182;
systematic complexity of, 183 ; relation of, to
psychical dispositions, 184; relative novelty
of, 185: inhibiiive aspect of, 194; and
psychical competition, 197; physiological
correlate of, 198 ; freedom and obstruction
of, 337.

Attention-processes, mutually exclusive, 196.

Automatism, kinds of, 72.

3o8

Index.

Avenarius. R., vital series of, 151, 268, 142, 287
(See Vital Series.)

Aversion, distinction between desire and, 132 ;
as involving impeded activity, 133 ; as
enforced attention, 134 ; psychological ex-
tension of meaning of, 135 ; arising from
external constraint, 136 ; arising from con-
flict between mental tendencies, 139 ; origin
of, 154; rnarked by constrained activity, 167.

B.

Bain, Dr. A., on consciousness, 21 ; on the
psychological standpoint, 27 ; on limitation
of attention, 211 ; on motor innervations,
212; on the law of contiguity, 270; on the
relation of the law of similarity to that of
contiguity, 274 ; on partial identity and the
attraction of similars, 276 ; on the transition
from like to like, 278 ; on recognition with-
out power to recall, 279 ; on " constructive
association," 44 ; on mental combinations,
47 ; on poetic composition, 59 ; on " emo-
tional constructiveness," 76; on belief, loS,
234, 238 ; on degrees of assurance, 233 ; on
beliefs disconnected from action, 236 ; use
of the term activity by, 237 ; on primitive
credulity, 252 ; on elation as favouring
belief, 2S6 ; on pleasure and pain, 272 ; on
surprise, 27S ; on movements arising from
nutrition, 290 ; on pleasure attending re-
newal of action, 292.

Baldwin, Professor M., experiments with his
children of, 16 ; on reverie, i63 ; on passive
consciousness, 171 ; on the germ of com-
parison, 170.

Bateman, Dr., case of aphasia from, S.

Baumann, Prof., case of hypermnesia from, 13.

Beauty, definition of, 282 ; examples of pleasure-
giving, 282.

Belief, as a mental function distinct from simple
apprehension, bk. i. ch. v., and knowledge,
97 ; and denial, 98 ; and doubt, loi ; and
play of fancy, 103 ; nature of difference be-
tween, and simple apprehension, iii ; and
imagination, bk. ii. chap. xi. ; as a condition
of activity, 234 ; passive aspect of, 238 ; as
limitation of activity, 239, 258; condition
of, 243 ; relation of, to impressional ex-
perience, 244 ; relation of, to association,
248 ;! relation of, to apperception, 252 ; as
caused by desire, 254 ; distinction between,
and imagination, 261.

Beliefs of savages, 258.

Bereavement, pains of, 278.

Berkeley, Bishop, on words as symbols, 88 ; on
general ideas, 184 ; on subjective selection
and objective coercion) 244.

Binet, A., on after-images, 12.

Biology, relation of, to chemistry and physics,
6 ; data of, 9.

Bosanquet, B., on the use of words, 189; example
of mediate comparison from, 206.

Bradley, F. H., on irrelevant presentations, 50;
on the use of the word activity, 143, 145 ;
account of activity by, 173 ; on the perception
of activity, 174 ; on the time-perception, 174 ;
on implicit and explicit existence, 175, 176;
on painful interest, 235 ; on the particularism
of the associationists, 4S.

Brain, evolution of the, and retentiveness, 256.

Brentano, Dr. F.„ on the division of the mental
functions, 40; on reference to an object;
teaching of, compared to that of Kant, 42;
on belief, 99; analysis of feeling and con-
ation by, ii6; on constructive combination
in musical composition, 60.

Bridgman, Laura, case of 11.

Brown, Dr. Thomas, adaptation of the term
relative suggestion from, SI ; on growth of
love of money for its own sake, 89 ; on tedium
due to monotony, 274 ; on the pains of
bereavement, 278.

Browne, Dr. W., quoted by Ireland, 195.

Browning, R., illustration of relative suggestion
from, 79.

Bunyan, illustration of relative suggestion from,
79.

Burke, E., on words and images, 80 ; speeches
of, 86.

Butler, Bishop, on formation of habits of volition,
266; use of "active " and " passive " as ap-
plied to habits, by, 267.

c.

Campbell, on sounds as signs, and ideas, 8g, 90.

Carlyle, 35, 91.

Carpenter, Dr. example of propensity through
habit, 259; example of the principle of re-
petition in an idiot, 264 ; instance of coales-
cence modifying perception, 289.

Castle-building, and imagination, 269 ; tendency
of, to influence conduct, 266.

Categories of grammar, subjective and objective,
219.

Causality and activity, 144.

Charcot, case of aphasia, S.

Chess-playing, 88 ; as instance of intuitional
thinking, 188.

Child, mental development of, 93 ; anger and
fear in, 96 ; association between name and
thing in, 191 ; use of single words by, 204;
speech of, and gesture-language, 228.

Coalescence, bk. ii., ch. iv. ; conditions of, 2S6 ;
illustrations of, 286 ; relation of, to apper-
ception, 125 ; relation of, to conflict, Ibl.

Coenaesthesis, influence of, on strength of apper-
ceptive systems, 134.

Cognition, analysis of, 46.

Cognitive synthesis, miscellaneous illustration!
of, 103.' (See Conation.)

Colburn, Zerah, as an illustration of noetic
synthesis, 36.

Coleridge, on illusion and delusion, 106; case of
hypermnesia, 12.

Comparison, and conception, bk. ii. ch. ix. ;
analysis ot, 168 ; as distinctive of the human
mind, 171 ; rudimentary instances of, 169 ;
relation of, to imitation, 170 ; as rudimentary
conception, 173 ; quantitative, 175 ; as con-
ditioned by conceptual analysis and syn-
thesis, 205.

Competition of apperceptive rystems, 128.

Complication, and perceptual synthesis, 27; rela-
tion of, to the association of ideas, 28.

Components of a whole, apprehension of, 70.

Composite photographs, as illustrating the
generic image, 179.

Conation, and feeling, bk. i., ch. v. ; use of the
term, 115; distinctfon between feeling and,
119; relation of, to attention, 12a; dis-
tinction between, and attention, in their
dynamic aspect, 126 ; application of the
term, 128; obstruction of, 130; as a factor
in the formation of habit, 265, 267 ; and
cognitive synthesis, bk. ii., ch. vii. ; coinci-
dent development of, and cognition, 82 ;
evolution of theoretical out of practical, 93;
relation of, to sense-pleasure and pain, 3()4.

Conations, subordinate, bow they become indo*
pendent, 80.

Index.

309

Conception, and comparison, bk. ii,, chap, ix.,
174; antithesis between, and perception,
173 ; essential character of, 174 ; by means
of representative examples, 176.

Concepts, explication of, 206.

Concepts, higher, and gesture-language, 226.

Concepts, rudimentary, and generic images, 179.

Concord, as a grammatical form, 233.

Conduct, as influenced by the imagination, 263.

Conflict, and coalescence, 281, 131, primitive
phases of, 282 ; consequences of, 283 ; dis-
tinction of, from mere competition, 285 ;
evasion of, 148 ; issue of, 156 ; between alter-
native groups, 1S7 ; and regressive move-
ment of thought, 158.

Congenital aptitude, relation of, to growth of
interest, 102.

Connective cerebral arrangements, 121 ; in-
stance of, from musical notation, 122 ; rela-
tion of, to assimilative process, 123 ; instance
of, from languages, 123.

Conscious process, relation of, to physical ante-
cedents, 28, 2g ; relation of, to association, 83.

Conscious states, and brain process, 151 ; and
revival by association, 154.

Consciousness, relation of, to mind, i ; observa-
tion of the process of, 12 ; reference of, to an
object, 43 ; and the object of thought, 45 ;
" finite," 45 (note) ; conception of anoetic,
50; neutral modifications of, 288.

Constraint, relation of, to aversion, 136; inter-
pretation of the word, 142.

Constructive imagination, conditions of, 264.

Contiguous adhesion, 269.

Contiguous association, provisional statement
of, 270; Bain's statement of, criticised, 271 ;
how far applicable to conation, 272.

Conventional language, varieties of, 228.

Co-operation of apperceptive systems, 128.

Cyples, on neural arrangements, 289.

D.

Dahl, F., experiments with spiders, 284.

Dakota language, 230.

Damaras, want of localising power in, 35.

Data of psychology, 8.

Davenant, on truth in imagination, 264.

Deaf-mutes, mode of teaching gesture-language
to, 222.

Defoe, 136.

DelboEuf, 68.

Depression, mood of, and the train of ideas, 103.

Depth, perception of, as example of constructive
process, 68.

Descartes, 112.

Desire, relation of, to judgment, 113 ; distinction
between, and aversion, 132 ; transference of,
from end to means, 83 ; as a cause of belief,
254.

Differences, discrimination of, 58.

Diminution of causality, principle of, 263.

Discourse, distinct from automatic processes, 87.

Dispositions, physiological, 22.

Dispositions, psychical, 21 ; analysis of, 61.

Dispositions, psycho-physical, 23.

Distance, perceptions of, as examples of con-
structive process, 68.

Distraction, pains due to, 273.

Doubt and belief, loi, 241.

Dreamers, indolent and strenuous, 133.

Dumas, examples of melancholia, 107.

Dumont, L., on attention and automatic actions,
261 ; on " diminution of causality," 263.

Dysamogeaic effect of pleasant Eensations, 172,
302.

E.

Edridge-Green, 49 ; on identification,?; instance
of perceptual deficiency, 16.

Ehrenfels, Chr., on " shape-qualities," 65 (note).

Elation, as favouring the believing attitude, 23S.

" Emotional constructiveness," 76.

Emotions, and the unity of conative and cog-
nitive process, 104.

Equilibrium, and indirect self-determination,
150; tendency of neural systems to, 199,
287.

Evolution of mind, 9.

Experience, actual, analysis of, 58.

Experience, noetic and anoetic, 243.

Experimental method in psychology, 11.

Exaltation, state of, 108 ; in mania, 133.

Explication of concepts, verbal and intuitional,
208.

Expressive signs, 193, 210.

F.

Facility, as a feature of habit, 2591

Faculty psychology, 17,

Fancy, play of, and judgment, 103.

Fatigue, and the pleasures of repose, 297.

Fear, differentiation and transformation of, 97;
cause of painfulness in, 277.

Feeling, and conation, bk. i. ch. vi., application
of the term, 115 ; in grief and longing, 118;
distinct from conation, iig ; wide applica.
tion of the word, 121. (See Conaton, Plea-
sure and Pain.)

"Feeling tone " and pleasure-pain. 121.

Fdre, Dr., on sensation as dynamogenic, 172; on
dynamogenic effect of pleasant sensations,
302.

Fiction, advantage of, over history, 264 ; in-
fluence of, on conduct, 266.

" Fictive status," 104.

Fixation of attention (See Attention.)

Floating ideas, loi, 263 ; as influencing conduct,
266.

Force, popular use of the term, 146 ; ideas of,
their source in mental life, 178.

Form, apprehension of, bk. i. ch. iii.

Form of combination, apprehension of, 65
identity of, amid varying constituents, 66
similarity of, amid varying constituents, 69
correspondence of, to the futuiamentutn
relationis, 75 ; how far to be identified with
relation, 76 ; distinguished from formula of
combination, 77; as a distinct psychical
element, 48.

Formal inference, 81.

Foster, Prof. M., on vaso-motor nerves, and
distribution of blood within the brain, 220.

Q.

Galton, F., on mental vision, 18 ; on waking
visions and mental images, 13 ; on power
of visualisation, 22 ; on power of gene-
ralisation, 33 ; instance of visualisation,
182 ; on thought about mechanism, 187.

Generic imagery, as example of coalescence, 286.

Generic images, relation of, to rudimentary con-
cepts, 179 ; functions of, 183 ; part played
by, in memory, 184 ; effect of, on the flow
of ideas, 183 ; called up by names, 196.

Genetic method in psychology, 36, 20 (note).

Genius, M. Angelo's definition of, 162.

3IO

Index.

Gesture-language, 221 ; demonstrative and
imitative signs of, 221 ; as an instrument of
conceptual thinl<ing, 221, 223 ; mode of
teaching, to deaf mutes, 222 ; tendency of,
to become conventional, 224 ; limitations
of, 223 ; formlessness of, 227 ; conventional
elements in, 227.

Godferneaux, A., on conation and cognitive
synthesis, 104, 109 ; example of state of
exaltation, 109.

Goethe's Wcrthtr, 268.

Grammar, objective categories of, 219.

Grammatical form, apprehension of, as illustra-
tion of noetic synthesis, 37.

Gratification, arising from possession of wealth,
90.

Grimm's Fairy Tales, lo, 264.

Groenouw, case of psychical blindness, 17.

Grosse, Dr. E., on primitive art, lo.

H.

Habit, 25S ; chief features of, 258 ; uniformity
arising from, 258 ; facility arising from, 259 ;
propensity arising from, 259 ; tendency of,
to become automatic, 260 ; formation of,
263 ; and uniform repetition, 264 ; origin
of, in conation, 265 ; relation of, to the vital
series, 268 ; effect of, on pleasure and pain,
288.

Habits of thought and volition, 262, 266.

Haddon, Prof. A. E., on love of wealth among
savages, 99 (note).

Hallucinations and suggestibility, 155.

Hamerton, on synthc^iis in painting 77.

Hamilton, Sir W., on the division of mental
functions, 39; on distinction between appre-
hension and judgment, 113.

Hamlet, 10, 61.

Hartmann, E. von, on trial and failure in mental
construction, 62; on reaction, 73.

Hegel, 247.

Hegelian philosophy, as an instance of an apper-
ceptive system, 136, 167.

Helmholtz, researches of, 33 ; on attention to
sensations, 246; on inferential nature of
judgments of size, 43; on judgment of colour,
67 ; on detection of spurious bank notes, 68 ;
on inference in perceptual process, 74.

Herbart, 94.

Hindrance and furtherance of mental activity,
153. 157-

Hobbes, on words and images, 87 ; on desire, 125 ;
example of metaphor, 73; on progres-
sive development, 83 ; on " ranging," 164 ;
on a particular as representative of a class,
177.

Hodgson, R., illustration of fallacies of memory,
287.

Hodgson, S., on physiology as basis of psycho-
logical theory, 4 ; materialism of, 5.

" Hudibras," quotation from, 69.

Hume, David, on words and ideas, go ; on origin
of causal necessity, 178 ; on mentally supply-
ing gaps in a series of colour gradations, 34 ;
illustration of working of a mental system,
113 ; and the general concept, 184.

Hunger, pain of, 299.

Huxley, Prof. T. H., on the generic image, 179;
on the generic precept, 183.

Hypotheses of psychology, 16.

Hypothesis of sub-consciousness, 24.

I.

Idea! combinations, separability of, 233.
Identification, and the attraction of similars, 280 ;

and distinction, condition of, 10 : of shapes,
70.
Identity, as a factor in suggestion by Btmilarity,
78.

Imager>', mental, of vivid visuaKsers, 181.

Images, mental, and words, 79 ; fixation of, 212 ;
fixation of, by actual movement, 213.

Imagination, and belief, bk. ii., ch. xi., the play
of, 76 ; reproductive, 186 ; conditions of, 260 ;
aesthetic end of, 261 ; as play, 262 ; construc-
tive, 264 ; in castle-building, 265 ; influence
of, on conduct, 263. (See Make-believe.)

Imitation, relation of, to comparison, 170.

Implicit Apprehension, bk. i., ch. iv., 210. (See
Apprehension.)

Impulse, relation of, to desire, 83.

Impulses, decay of, 91.

Indissoluble associations, relation of, to belief,
249.

Indolence, pleasures of, 281.

Induction, and conflict, 160.

Inertia, law of, as form of self-determination, 146.

Inference, through a middle term, as a type of
relative suggestion, 63 ; definition of, 71 ;
informal, 73 ; in perception, 74.

Inferences, informal, 73.

Intensity, application of the word, in psychology,
no.

Interest, relation of, to attention, 224 ; as atten-
tion itself, 225 : painful, relation of, to atten-
tion, 232. (See Attention.)

Interests, conflict of, and attention, 226.

Intuitional explication of concepts, 208.

Intuitional thinking, 188 ; as involving generali-
sation, 187 ; examples of, 187.

Ivanhoe 104.

J,

Jackson, Dr. Hughlings, 33 ; on the doctrine of
higher and lower level centres, 198.

James, Professor W., on analysis of presenta-
tions, 56, 59, 60 ; on imageless apprehen-
sion, 92 ; on psychic fringes, 92 ; on active
•onsciousness, i6i ; on activity as consist-
ing in muscular sensations, 162 ; view of
activity of, criticised, 16; • on attention, 165 ;
on transitive states, 218 ; on distinction and
identification, 10 ; on the pseudoscope, 31 ;
on perception as reasoning, 43.

Johnson, W. E., on affirmations and their con-
tradictory, 105.

Judging, as distinct from simple apprehension,
bk. i., chap. v.

Judgment, and aesthetic contemplation, inP ■ and
desire, 113. (See Belief.)

Judgments, of size, shape, and distance, 43 ; of
colour, 67.

K.

Kant, no, 116, 162; on reference of presenta-
tions to an object, 41.

Kantian division of mental functions, 38.

Keller, Helen, case of, n, 33.

Kepler, discovery of the orbit of Mars by, 31.

Knowledge, and belief, 07.

Kries, Von, on connective cerebral arrange-
ments, 122.

L.

Lamb, C, on pleasure derived from the ladicroui,
284 ; on irritation caused by music, 2&S.

Landseer, example of simultaneons co-ordina-
tion, 195.

Lang, A., 10.

Index.

3"

Langaage, example of relative suggestion from,
S3 ; by means of representative examples,
178; relation of, to the generic image, 184;
as dependent on thought, 186 ; essential func-
tions of, 190 ; as a mode of fixation, 192 ; and
the train of ideas, 194 ; the social factor in,
202; social function of, as guide of thought
processes, 203 ; and the " social object,"
aOS ; conceptual analysis by means of, 209 ;
formal elements of, 219 ; and syntactic sys-
tems, 220 ; conventional varieties of, 228 ;
formal and material constituents of, 230.
(See Gesture-language.)

Lehmann, A., on sleep, 221 ; on the hypnotic
trance. 222.

Leibnitz, G. W., monadic theory of, 18.

Lipps, Dr. T., on analysis of psychical disposi-
tions, 61 ; view of, compared to that of
James, 62 ; instance of conflict. 189.

Livingstone, Dr., on savage belief, 236 ; on
efiect of civilised life on savages, 277.

" Locality," and noetic synthesis, 33.

Locke, John, on particular images, 49 ; on com-
parison in animals, 171.

Lombroso, C, instance of inconsistency, 134.

Lotze, H., on wordless thought, 92 ; on the re-
lative positions of the finger tips, 66 • on iii-
direct contact, 66 : on comparison as quanti-
tative, 17S ; on higher universals, 209.

Ludicrous, pleasure derived from the, 283.

m.

Mackenzie, Prof. J. S., on anoetic sentience, 248
(note).

Magic, practices of, as illustrating savage be-
liefs, 239.

Magnitude, visual and real, 23.

Make-believe, as involving judgment, 103 ; essen-
tial nature of, 262 ; corr.parison of, with play,
283 ; and judgments of real significance, 264 ;
influence of, on conduct, 26S ; influence of,
on pleasures of repose, 296.

Malebranche, Nic, as an instance of congenital
proclivity, 102.

Marshall, H. R., on pleasure-pain and " Alge-
donics," lai ; on pleasure arising from sur-
plus-stored energy, 291 ; on pleasure felt after
intermission of activity, 292 ; on pains of re-
striction, 293, 294.

Material agency, relation of, to psychology, 4.

Matter, as an agent, 3.

Meaning, extension of, by analogy, 218.

Meinong, 70 (note).

Melancholia, symptoms and examples of, 106.

Memory, falsification of, through coalescence, 286.

" Memory co-efiicient," in perception of physical
reality, 240.

Mendelssohn, Moses, and the triple division of
mental fui.ctions, 38.

Mental imagery, of vivid visualisers, 181.

Mental images, fixation of, 2x2; fixation of, by
actual movement, 213.

Mental process, products of, o ; relation of, to
motor process, 103. (See Conation.)

Mental proccsres, relation of, to material, 6.

Mental proviuctiveness, in general, 40.

Mental organisation, compared to military, 2.

Mental organisations, analogy between, and
social, 116.

Mental systems, and noetic synthesis, llf.

Metaphysics, relation of, to psychology, 7.

Method of psychology, 16; experimental, Ti ;
analytic and synthetic, 36 ; genetic, 20 (note).

Mill, Jas., on belief, 98 ; on indissoluble associa-
tion as a cause of belief, 249; on association
and belief, 233.

Mill, J. S., on physical reality, 43,246; on mental
construction, 49 ; on practical inference, 73 ;
on James Mill's view of indissoluble asso-
ciation, 249; on James Mill's view of asso-
ciation and belief, 263.

Mind, relation of, to consciousness, i.

Mind-reading, 131.

Money, love of, for its own sake, 89.

Monotony, tedium due to, 274.

Morgan, Mr. Lloyd, experiments of, with dogs,
16; on apprehension of relations, 73, 74, 75 ;
example of gradual readjustment, 283 ; ex-
periments of, showing how far animals
exercise comparison, 172; on perception of
relations by animals, 173 ; example of chil-
dren's use of single words, 204 ; on mode of
describing things to children, 207.

Motor inco-ordination, pain arising from, 298.

Mozart, 163 ; method of composition of, 38, 61,
62.

Miiller, I., on cases of after-images, 12.

Mtinsterberg, Dr. H., criticism of Wundt's
theory of apperception by, 41.

Muscular action, as instance of habit, 259 ; feel-
ing-tone of, 295.

Muscular exertion, pain of, 296.

Music, and pleasure-pain, 286.

N.

Names, relation of, to generic images, 196.

Natural signs. (See Gesture-language.)

Negative apperception, 140.

Neural arrangements, pain from disorganisatioa
of. 289.

Neural systems, tendency to equilibrium of, 199.

Neutral modifications of consciousness, 288.

Newton, 7, 12, 178, 80, 81.

Noetic synthesis, bk. ii. ch. v. ; as distinguished
from association, 1 ; relation of, to simple
perception, 4 ; relation of, to complete per-
ception, 18; and the train of ideas, 31;
varying degrees of, 34 ; special illustrations
of, 33 ; relation of, to apperception, 40.

Novelty, hedonic effect of, 278.

Nutritive conditions, as sources of pleasure, 291.

O.

Objective necessity, and subjective, 239.
Opposition, as a form of limitation of activity of

belief, 240.
" Organic classification," 20.
Organic craving, subordination of, 92 ; pain of,

299.
Organic sensations, pains arising from, 281

(note).
Organisation, inward, as a condition of strength

of apperceptive systems, 133.
Organisation, mental, compared to military, 2;

compared to soci^, 116.
Over-lapping. (See coalescence.)

P.

Pain, relation of, to aversion, 137 ; due to dis-
tracted attention, 273; due to thwarted
activity, 273 ; due to terror, 277 ; of bereave-
ment, 231, 278; of remorse, 279; due to
wounded pride, 279 ; arising from dis-
organised neural arrangements, 289 ; of
restriction, 293; of muscular exertion, 293;
of fatigue, 297; arising from motor inco-
ordination, 298 ; arising from organic
craving, 299.

312

Index.

Pain-sensations, 300 ; qualitative differences of,
300 ; disagreeableness of, 301. (See Pleasure,
Pleasure-pain.)

Pascal, congenital proclivity of, 102.

Paul, on the interconnection of sentences, 21S ;
on variations in the meaning of words, 216.

Paulhan, F., on analogy between mental and
social organisations, 116 ; examples from,
illustrating strength of apperceptive systems,
133.

Paulsen, 20.

Pearson, Karl, on law of inertia, 146 ; on " en-
forcement," 178.

Percept, visual, of distance and depth, 23.

Perception, falsification of, through coalescence,
289 ; part played in, by association of ideas,
24 ; constructive process in, 65.

Perception, complex, 18 ; possible only through
schematic apprehension, 20.

Perception, simple, defined, 4 ; relation of, to
ideal recall, 3 ; relation of, to implicit appre-
hension, 6 ; relation of, to association, 7 ;
grades of, 16 ; relation of, to complex per-
ception, 17.

Percepts, vividness of, 2M.

Perceptual attention, freedom of activity in, 243.

Perceptual construction, and unconscious in-
ference, 71.

Perceptual synthesis, and association of ideas,
28 ; grades of complexity of, 29.

Petzoldt, J., on the doctrine of vital series, 201.

Philology, importance of, to psychology, 10.

Physical reality, belief in, 246.

Physical sciences, relation of, to psychology,.

3.27-

Physiological correlate, of psychological states,
31 ; of conation, 82, 93 ; of pleasure-pain, 287.

Physiological dispositions, relation of, to psychi-
cal, 22.

Physiological formula for development of a cona-
tion, 93.

Physiological hypotheses, in psychology, 19.

Physiological theory, psychological application
of, 26.

Physiologist, powerlessless of the, to interpret
physiological data, 15.

Pikler, Dr., on presentability at will as constitu-
ting objective reality, 246 ; criticism of the
theory of, 247.

Plato, on the origin of philosophy, 99.

Play, essential characteristic of, 262.

Pleasure, and progress towards an end, 270 ; due
to relief from tension, 280 ; due to awaken-
ing of conations, 280 ; due to aesthetic form,
282 ; arising from organic sensations, 281
(note) ; of indolence, 281 ; felt after pro-
longed intermission of activity, 292; of re-
pose, 296.

Pleasure and pain, bk. ii., ch. xii. ; as modes of
feeling, 119; as determinants of attention,
236' and organic welfare and injury, 268;
general theory of, 269 ; due to novelty, 276 ;
connected with idea of self, 278 ; dependent
on the vital series, 287.

Pleasure-pain, 122 ; pyschological theory of,
271 ; physiological theory of, 287 ; of mus-
cular action, 290 ; relation of, to sensa-
tions of the special senses, 301.

Pleasures and pains of sense, psychological
theory of, 203.

Poetic composition, as an example of relative
suggestion, 39.

Polysynthesism, relation of, to gesture-language,
832.

Pope, gt, 81,92.

Positive and negative apperception, 110.

Practical interest, growth of, from theoreticAl, 99.

Practical needs, definition of, 93.

Predicate, relation between subject and, 213.

Presentability at will, 246 ; existence as implied
by, 248.

Presentation, as mode of subjective experience
47; relatively independent of thought, 48;
as mere sentience, 50.

Presentations, analysis of, bk. i. ch, ii. ; as ap-
pearances in consciousness, 53 ; identifica-
tion and discrimination of, 53 ; distinctness
and indistinctness of, 54, 56. (See Analysis of
Presentations.)

Primitive credulity, 238.

Propensity, as a feature of habit, 259.

" Proportional systems," 167 ; and the formal
elements of language, 220.

" Psychic fringes," doctrine of, 92 ; part played
in sense perception by, 93 ; nature of, il-
lustrated by trains of thought, 95 ; in atten-
tion, 182.

Psychical dispositions, 21 ; importance of, in
mental process, 23.

Psychologist, attitude of the, to physiology, 34.

Psychology, scope and method of, Introduction;
definition of, i, 9; relation of, to other
sciences, 2 ; relation of, to physiology, 4 ;
connection of, with physical science, 7 ; rela-
tion of, to metaphysics, 8 ; data ot, 8 ; objec-
tive data of, 9 ; experimental method in, 11 ,
individualistic standpoint of, 12; introspec-
tive and retrospective methods in, 13 ; as
dependent on observation of external signs,
13; faculty hypothesis in, 17; physiological
hypothesis in, ig ; analytic and synthetic
methods in, 35, 36, 20 (note) ; relation of, to
sense-pleasure and pain, 303.

Psycho-physical dispositions, 23.

Psycho-physical processes, cause of differences
in tone of, 268.

Puzzle-pictures, 71.

Qi>antitative comparison, 175.

R.

Reality, and physical resistance, 248.

Reid, T., 202 ; on sensation and object, 43 ; 00
judgment, 112, 117; on propensity as a
feature of habit, 259.

Relations, apprehension of, 72; and form of
synthesis, 73.

Relative suggestion, bk. ch. vi., types and ex-
amples of, 52; trial and error in, 62; in
perceptual process, 65 ; in automatic move-
ment, 72; and informal inference, 73; and
the play of imagination, 76; relation of, to
suggestion by formal similarity, 78; and
scientific work, 80; and formal inference,
81 ; and apperception, 126.

Relief from tension, pleasure due to, 280.

Remorse, pains of, 279.

Repetition, principle of, and the growth of habit,
263 ; cases of, 265.

Retentiveness, as an historical category, 254;
definition of, 254; psycho-physical, 256.

Retrospection, relation of, to introspection, 13.

Reverie, state of, how far passive, 169.

Revival, by association, 23.

Revival, ideal, and noetic synthesis, 31.

Revival, impressional, possibility of, 11 ; under
abnormal conditions, 12; under normal con-
ditions, 13.

Revived motor-process, negative aspect of, 3i6 ;
as a means of fixing attention, 217.

Index.

Z'^Z

Rbytbm, as illustration of pleasure due to

ssthetic form, 283.
Ribot, Tb., on words and images, 82 ; on action

from fixed ideas, 215.
Riddles, as an instance of conflict, 188.
Ruskin, on gradation of scales, 58 ; on exercises

in drawing, 73 ; example of metaphor, 78.

s.

Satiety, and sense-pleasure, 304.

Savages, language of, and gesture-language, 229 ;
nice distinctions in the Language of, 231 ;
strength of belief of, iinder the influence of
desire, 256 ; beliefs of, 238 ; effect of civilised
life on, 277.

Sayce, on the language of savages, 229.

Scale, reduction and enl.'.rgcment of, as type of
relative suggestion. 57.

Schmalz, on mode of teaching gesture-language,
222; on expression of abstract concepts by
gesture-language, 226.

Schubert, 61.

Science, part played by, in relative suggestion,
80.

Seductive feeling, as influencing conduct, 287.

Selectiveness, relation of, to organic and mental
activity, 156.

Self, pleasure and pain due to idea of, 278.

Self-determination, relation of direct and indirect,
155 ; physical and mental, 149.

Sensation, as dynamical, 172.

Sensations of pain, 300.

" Sense of eminency," 283.

Sense-impression, suggestion of a percept by a,
30.

Sense-organs, accommodation of, 205.

Sense-pleasure and pain, psychological theory of,
303; and conation, 304; movements of, an
analogue of the psychical condition. 303.

Senses, the special, education of. 95 ; painful and
pleasurable sensations of, 301.

Sensory material, as a condition of the strength
of apperceptive systems, 137.

Sentences, interconnection of, 214. (See Words,
Language.)

Sentience, distinct from thought, 50.

Shakespeare, 61.

Sband, A. F., ao5 ; on intensity through atten-
tion, 231 ; on the cumulative effect of atten-
tion. 112.

Sidgwick, Prof. H., on pleasure, 120 (note); on
seductive feeling influencing conduct, 267.

Signification, usual and occasional, 216.

Signs, expressive, distinguished from suggestive
and substitute, 193; occasional meaning of,
21s.

Similarity, law of, 275 ; relation of law of, to
immediate recognition, 279; relation of re-
lative suggestion to that by, 78.

Similars, attraction of, why superfluous, 277.

Simple suggestion, 64 ; inadequacy of, 68, 70.

Smith, Adam, on pain caused by interrupted
habits, 276.

Social factor, influence of, on growth of theoreti-
cal interests, 100.

Social function of language, 202.

Speech, internal, control over, 215, 196. (See Lan-
guage.)

Spencer, H., on complex perception as a com-
plex inference, 18 ; on practical inferences,
73 ; on the test of truth, 241 ; on pleasure and
pain, 269.

Spenser's I-acric Queene, quotation from, 79.

Spinoza. 129, 104.

Sproat, Mr., on decay of savage races, 130.

Statical point of view of psychology-, 36.

VOL. II. 20

Steinthal, on apperception, 110; on positive and
negative apperception, 119 ; on solution of
conflict, 161; on intuitional thinking, 187;
on speech of children, 228.

Stereoscope, use of, 11.

Stewart, Dugald, on words and formal reasoning,
89.

Striving. (See Conation.)

Stumpf, Dr. C, on analysis of experience, 58 ;
on attention as intensifying sensations, 250.

Style, as pleasure-giving, 283.

Sub-consciousness, hypothesis of, 24.

Subject-predicate relation, 212 ; a subjective
category, 219; a purely psychological cate-
gory, 214.

Subjective necessity, confusion of, with objec-
tive. 239.

Subjective selection, in sensations, 244.

Suggestibility, 154; and hallucination, 198; and
mental weakness, 133.

Suggestion. (See Relative suggestion, and
Simple suggestion.)

Suggestive signs, 193.

Sully, Prof. James, on muscular adjustment and
attention, 208 ; on inhibitive aspect of sen-
sory fixation, 211 ; on interest and atten-
tion, 224 ; on effects of attention, 245 ; on
attention to sensations, 246 ; on persistence
secured by attention, 248 ; on attention and
retention, 250 ; on voluntary attention, 240.

Surprise, pleasure and pain of, 278.

Suspense, instances of. 146.

Symmetrv, and the pleasures due to ssthetic
form, 285.

Syntactic systems, 220.

Synthesis and analysis, mutual implication of,
39.

Synthetic method in psychology, 36.

T.

Tantalus, as type of the painful state, 270.

Tedium, causes of, 273 ; due to monotony, 274.

Tendency. (See Conation. J

Tennyson, example of metaphor, 78.

Tetens, J. N., on division of mental functions, 38.

Theoretical activity, and practical pursuits, 98.

Theoretical conation, emergence into inde-
pendence of, 94.

Theoretical interest, growth of, dependent on
social factor. 100.

Theoretical needs, satisfaction of, 94.

Thomson's Castle of Imlolcucc, quotation from,
282.

Thought, imageless, 85 ; how far habitual, 262
and language, bk. ii., cb. x. ; and associa
tion, 164 ; how far continuous, 212. (See
guage.)

Thwarted attention, pain due to, 278.

Tickling, unpleasantness of, 302.

Traces of past experiences, 22.

Trains, of images, 124 ; of ideas, conditions de-
termining, 163 ; of thought, 165, 186.

" Transference." of desire from end to means,
85 ; criticism of use of the word, 86.

Tucker, Abraham, 48 ; on voluntary reflection,
124.

Tylor, F.. B., on formlessness of gesture-lan-
guage, 227 ; on magical practice, 260.

u.

Unconscious inference, 43 ; and perceptual con-
struction, 71.

Underst.Tnding, and images, 83.

Under-stimulus, as cause of disagreeable feeling,
309.

314

Index,

Uniformity, as feature of habit, 258.

Universal, distinction between, and particular,
197 ; forms of the, 200.

Universe of discourse, 112, 211; and the ulti-
mate subject, 214.

V.

Verbal explication of concepts, 210.

Visual perception, and identification, 22; as ana-
logue of the syllogism, 43.

Visualisation, power of, 22, 182

Vital series, 151 ; and attention, 200 ; and the
formation of habit, 268 ; initiated by conflict,
283 ; and negative apperception, 142 ; rela-
tion of, to pleasure and pain, 287.

Volition, how far habitual, 262.

Volitional action, 192; relation of, to auto-
matic, 194.

Volkmann, on the apperceptive process, 12S ; on
pleasure and pain, 271.

Voluntary action, and action from fixed ideas,
131 ; and belief, 132.

Voluntary attention, 240; and movements of
fixation, 243.

W.

Ward, Dr. James, on data of psychology, 10 ; on
standpoint of psychology, I2 ; on sub-
conscious presentations, 24, 25 ; on genesis
of ideas, 32 ; on impossibility of impres-
sional revival, 11 ; on impressional associa-
tion, 27; on the complexity of ideas, 28;
on reproductive imagination, 186 ; on com-
mand of the word-percept, 193 ; on varia-
tion of the signification of words, 216.

Weber's law, 11.

Wigan, Dr., on mental vision, 14.

Wilbrand, Dr., case of psychical blindness from,
188, 7.

Williams, on nice distinctions in savage lan-
guages, 231.

Words, meaning of, 78 ; understanding import
of, distinct from having mental image, 79;
as involving images, 83, 194 ; imagery as part
of, 85 ; as symbols, 88 ; as expressive signs,
192; combination of, 197; variations in
the signification of, 216, 217 ; usual and
occasional signification of, 216; modification
of meaning of, by analog)', 218.

Wundt, 20, 212; on attention, 2oi ; on appercep-
tion, il.

W. JOLLY AND SONS, ALBANY PRESS, ABERDEEN.